The Winchester Brothers and the Student of Hogwarts
by undoneangel
Summary: By either accident or design, a confused and fading Castiel sends Sam and Dean into the 3rd book of the Harry Potter series on a mission. The brothers must learn to make the best of their new life at Hogwarts until they can find a way home. Timelines are altered and hi-jinx ensues as they themselves learn to be Wizards. But who is really the author of this story? (art: Marie C.)
1. NEW Prologue

The Winchester Brothers and the Student of Hogwarts

By : Undoneangel

The black sixty-seven Impala sped down the dark, two lane highway in the dead of night. A heavy rain pounded the landscape around them, causing great droplets to obscure the view through the windshield nearly as fast as the wipers could keep up. The air outside was chilly, but not cold enough to turn the torrent to blizzard.

The weather inside the car was quite different. Dean and Sam Winchester sat in a mutual and bitter silence, with a tension one would need a diamond plated chainsaw to tear through. They both sat there, jaws clenched, teeth grinding, both telling off the other in their minds. Dean gripped the steering wheel white-knuckled out of anger. Sam sat stewing, leaning against the passenger door.

Not four hours ago, the brothers had left the Bunker with every code cracking book the Men of Letters had stashed away in their library. Charlie's call had rattled them, but it had also shaken loose some of the tension that had been building ever since Dean had acquired the Mark of Cain. The prospect of removing the Mark had put Dean into a better mood than he could recall in recent memory. He smiled, promising that if what the Book of the Damned had to offer could really free him of this curse that they would be going on a long and much deserved vacation.

"No, I'm talking about a beach. Drinking _cervezas._ Go for a swim. Mingle with the local wildlife." Dean looked hopeful yet sad. "When was the last time either one of us was on a beach?"

Sam thought about it, and he could honestly not recall a single time.

"Never." he answered.

"Never!" Dean repeated raising a finger to make his point. "Sand between our toes, Sammy. Sand between our toes."

Dean turned the radio back on and drummed the steering wheel happily. Things were looking up. . . . That is until they had stopped for food at some random greasy spoon along the highway.

Their food had just been delivered by a pretty young waitress. A petite brunette with a name tag that read, "Vicky".

Dean bit greedily into his bacon cheeseburger as soon as it was in front of him. The waitress turned and smiled at Sam, who awkwardly smiled back. She lingered a second or two longer than she meant to causing her to blush and sheepishly walk away toward the kitchen. Dean took notice of the exchange, and through a mouthful of burger smiled and nodded a goofy looking approval. He nudged his head in the direction she had gone a couple times and Sam allowed himself to take a second look to watch her walk away over Dean's shoulder.

He watched her slender hips sway back and forth as she rounded the end of the long counter.

Sam was about to return his attention to his food when he noticed something a bit off. A teenager sat in the corner booth alone with the hood of his sweatshirt up, his own plate of food untouched. Sure, it was a cold, damp night but it wasn't that. It was the way he also watched the waitress. A sort of devious, hungry stare.

He almost shrugged off the feeling but saw the teen turn his head as she passed by and promptly got up from his booth and followed her.

"I'll be back." Sam said quickly as he jumped to his feet. He hurriedly rushed past his oblivious brother in pursuit.

Dean, in a moment of surprise and brotherly pride said, "Yeah! Alright Sammy!" he paused to swallow and after a moment added, "That's my boy!"

Sam's suspicions were confirmed when he himself rounded the corner and he saw the back door of the diner was wide open and there was no sign of the waitress or the teen.

An hour later they were back on the highway. Dean's gruff voice broke the silence, exploding over the sound of classic rock playing lowly on the radio.

"What the hell were you thinking, Sam!" he started, slamming a fist onto the steering wheel. "Taking out a Vampire nest by yourself? How many years have we been doing this? You could have been killed!"

"Dean, there were only four of them. And they were teenagers for crying out loud! We've handled far worse on our own before. When are you going to stop treating me like I'm a kid? How many times have I bailed you out when you were waist deep in ghosts or werewolves?"

"That's not the point, Sam!"

"Then what _is_ the point, Dean?" he retorted. "What is it with you lately? I swear I feel like I can't even breathe without your permission. Whatever it is, you gotta stop holding it in, man. Talk to me."

Dean didn't answer.

Sam began again. "Dean, will you just –"

Dean responded by leaning forward and cranking up the volume on the stereo, drowning Sam out with a blast of _The Scorpions_. Sam threw his hands up I defeat and shook his head.

After several minutes, Sam reached over and lowered the volume and sat looking at his brother intently.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted.

"What?" he said calmly. "You obviously have something on your mind other than what happened tonight. So let's talk about it."

Dean hovered on the moment thinking of a million things he wanted to unload onto Sam, but his jaw clamped down and wouldn't let him speak. He grunted in frustration and turned up the music once again.

Sam went back to leaning on the door in silence.

The loud music began to fade and crackle. Something else came through as though a radio station was reaching its maximum range.

"Stop messing with the tunes, Sam!" Dean roared.

Sam defensively put his hands up. "I didn't touch it!"

Dean paused as a realization crept up on him. "Wait. That's a cassette, not the radio. Why is it scanning like that?"

Suddenly the rain outside came to an abrupt stop and the thunderous pounding on the roof and hood silenced. They both looked up from the radio and were startled to see the rain continued to pour down all around the car, but not on it. As if some magical bubble had formed around them.

Dean slammed on the brakes and they skidded to a halt on the rain slicked road. They both looked out the windshield and saw the rain cascading down and bowing around the car. They exchanged wild-eyed looks for a brief moment and immediately sprung into action. They exited the car and ran to the trunk which Dean threw open as fast as he could.

The familiar chalk drawn devil's trap on the roof of the trunk hatch greeted them as it popped up. The cache of weapons for any monster, demon, ghost, or demigod sat before them, ready to use, but neither one of them knew what to reach for.

The crackling sound of the radio began to change. A high pitch whine came through, starting low and climbing higher. Soon it was so intense it felt like an ice pick digging into your eye sockets and eardrums.

Sam clenched his palms against his head. "Ah! What The hell is that noise?"

Dean poked his head around the back end of the car and stared at the radio, his eyes wide with recognition.

"Nononononononononono!" he managed to get out before the windows of the Impala exploded outward. He threw his arms up to protect his face from the glass shrapnel flying in all directions. "Sam!" he shouted. "Grab the Holy Oil!"

Sam did as he was told, tossing the jar of oil to his brother. He shouted over the din, "Holy oil? An Archangel? Really? But why now?"

"I don't know! Load up the shotgun!" Dean shouted and picked up the Angel Blade with his free hand.

Sam felt his stomach drop. He realized that this attack was probably retaliation for jail breaking Metatron from heaven's prison. Something he sill hadn't told Dean about and hadn't planned on it either. He quickly and skillfully loaded shells into the sawed off shotgun as the ground began to shake. The last shell was inserted and in a flourish the gun was locked, cocked, and probing the darkness for a target as the sound ceased and the ground began to quake.

The pavement near them cracked with the rumbling, and with it came a near-blinding flash of light and a earsplitting crash. After the brothers recovered themselves they realized the Archangel had arrived. He stood defiantly and unflinching in front of them, his shadowy feathered wings spread wide in his fury.

"Dean, the Holy Oil!" Sam shouted.

"Don't bother," the Archangel said. "The rain will simply wash it away."

The rain suddenly began to fall again, instantly drenching them to the skin as if his words had burst the bubble holding it bay.

The brothers took up a fighting stance and the Archangel pulled his silver blade, smirking to himself.

"That's cute. You think you can defeat me?"

Dean looked him straight in the eyes and asked, "What are you, new?"

The Archangel growled in frustration. "You Winchesters never learn. When will you realize that you can't keep meddling in Heaven's affairs?

Sam spoke quickly, trying to divert the subject and keep him from revealing what he and Castiel had done. "How about we get this over with?"

The Archangel bellowed with rage and took a few rushing steps toward the brothers. They braced themselves for the onslaught but were caught off guard when he stopped short and his eyes, mouth, and hands lit up with Holy Light and he threw his head back in a cry of pain.

The Archangel slumped forward and slid off a bloodied silver blade held by a winded Castiel who stood close behind him. As soon as the body hit the pavement, a ring of white light exploded through the rain knocking the brothers off their feet.

Dean and Sam looked up after all had quieted and saw the burnt asphalt around the dead Archangel in the shape of his once glorious wings.

"Nice timing, Cass." said Dean.

Castiel looked down at his fallen kin. "Barachiel," he said solemnly. "He was my brother and friend."

Sam got up and helped Dean to his feet. "Sorry, Cass. But why did he come after us?" he said staring hard at Castiel and hoped he would understand his farce of a question.

Cass seemed to pick up on it as he hesitated before speaking. "There is still a struggle for power in Heaven. Metatron's actions have caused a few factions to split from the garrison and they all have a price on your heads. In their search for a leader, they seem to think the only one worthy enough to lead is the one that can kill the two of you."

"How many of them got the memo?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." he answered as his knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

"Cass!" Dean exclaimed as the brothers sprang to his side. "You alright, man?"

Castiel looked horrible. There were bags under his eyes and he looked genuinely exhausted. He appeared as if he were about to pass out.

"No." he answered gruffly. "This Grace is nearly spent. I used too much power to get here. I haven't been able to travel like I used to in some time. But I had to . . . had to find you."

"And we are grateful for that, Cass. That Archangel could have really cooked our bacon." said Dean.

"Could?" Castiel scoffed weakly. "He could, and _would_ have smited you with a single breath." He tried to stand but only managed to do so with both brothers supporting nearly all of his weight.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy." said Dean.

"There is no time. There is a situation that needs to be attended to. It is much more important."

"What? More important than you taking a dive and a whole cult of angels out to slit our throats?" exploded Dean.

"Yes. This has effected mass amounts of people. Like an epidemic."

"Not the Croatoan Virus?" Sam asked.

"No, it's much worse. There is a scripture. . . of sorts . . . however convoluted it is."

"Chuck!" the brothers exclaimed in unison.

"No. Not Chuck." Castiel explained. "My powers are diluted and I cannot see everything as I used to. Angel radio is still unplugged. But I hear their whispers. There are books, and they tell of a very powerful and evil man. He has plans to march over the face of the Earth with his armies and kill and enslave humans. He has many followers. But there is a boy that is prophesized to defeat him. You must find him."

"Look," Dean started. "We've already stopped the Apocalypse, killed the Mother of all monsters, defeated Leviathans, been to Hell and back, been to _HEAVEN_ and back, been to _Purgatory_ and back. We've had our asses kicked by demons, angels, and everything else in between. And now you want us to babysit some kid while half of Heaven is trying to kill us?"

Castiel stared at Dean and took it all in. "He doesn't need a babysitter, Dean. He needs protection. And we need to make sure he uses his powers for good. His magic is not fully developed yet."

"Great! Just, great!" Dean huffed. "Fine! Who is this kid and where do we find him?"

"I will send you to him." Castiel said as he reached into his trench coat.

"How?" asked Sam. "You can barely stand."

Castiel pulled out a small vial which glowed with a blue-white light. Sam recognized it as the Grace he stole from Metatron himself. Castiel uncapped it and a wisp of this light floated out of the vial and entered his mouth and nostrils. His eyes flashed blue and he stood up straight. His energy and strength had returned.

"Hurry. Find the boy and protect him." He raised his hands to the brother's foreheads, his fore and middle fingers extended on each. "By the way, his name is Harry."

Sam's eyes grew wide and he managed to exclaim, "Wait! What?" as Castiel touched their foreheads.

There was a flash and a rushing all around them and suddenly they found themselves shivering and knee deep in snow. The brothers looked up, and up, and up at a massive castle now looming in front of them.

"Where the hell are we?" Dean asked.

They both spotted a metal plaque built into the wall a few yards away from them which read:

HOGWARTS

Est. 990 A.D.

Founded by Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff,

Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me." said Sam.


	2. 1: Can't Find My Way Home

Chapter 1

Sam and Dean stood shivering in the snow. Sam in pure shock, Dean utterly confused. The castle loomed in front of them, ancient and boding. The sun was descending behind the mountains in the distance, throwing the bastion into eerie shadow. Two massive doors with steps leading up to them stood before them flanked by two giant torches. The woods surrounding the area were already impossibly dark and unearthly sounds emanated from its depths. To their left, a extensive body of murky water sloshed along its banks.

"What the hell? Hogwarts?" Dean asked.

"Dude. . ." Sam replied. "Hogwarts."

Dean stared and beckoned him to finish his sentence.

"You know, from the Harry Potter books."

Dean glared. "Are you kidding me? This place actually exists?"

"No. . . I mean, it's not supposed to exist."

"You mean to tell me that Cass zapped us into a freaking young adult novel? I'm gonna kill that whacked out angel!"

"He said say it was like an epidemic." Sam said. "You know he isn't himself right now. He probably saw the same following in the Harry Potter books in those damn Supernatural books Chuck wrote. The fanaticism for these books is monumental! No wonder he got confused."

"Well his crazy train just derailed us in a whole heap of double bubble toil and trouble."

"This is bad, Dean. I . . . wait." Sam turned to his brother. "Did you just make a Shakespeare reference?"

"What? Surprised?" asked Dean, shrugging it off like it was nothing.

"Yeah, a little." he admitted. He shrugged and continued. "Well, we got to figure out how to get back. If this place is now real that means everything else in this world is too. That means we are in some serious danger."

"Well where do we start?" Dean asked.

"I have absolutely no –"

"THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!"

High above them in one of the many towers a pair of windows had been flung open. A woman with long frizzy hair and large round glasses which magnified her eyes leaned half of her body out into the cold, and her high, shrieking, panicked voice had pierced the night.

The words echoed off the frozen stone. Several of the windows along the castle wall were already lit within by flickering torches, but once the scream was heard numerous others lit up as well.

Several windows flung open and dozens of younger faces appeared in them, followed shortly by many older ones. Several gasps and pointing fingers ensued. Many of the older faces disappeared just as quickly as they appeared with a mixture of concern and disapproval on them.

"HEADMASTER! HEADMASTER!" the original voice continued to shriek out the window.

Suddenly, the two massive doors in front of them swung inward and half a dozen adults came rushing through them led by an elderly man with a long white beard, half moon spectacles, and flowing purple robes with markings on it. He, like the other robed figures behind him all held differently shaped sticks in the brother's direction except one man who held an evil looking cat.

There was a tall man in black robes who had black, stringy hair and he stared at the brothers most unapprovingly over his long, pointed nose. Next to him was a dumpy little witch with flyaway grey hair who wore a patched, frayed hat and shabby robe. She looked a bit dusty as if she had been working in a garden all day. There was another woman, tall, and rather severe-looking, with grey hair drawn back into a tight bun. She wore emerald green robes, a pointed hat, and a very prim expression. A tiny bespectacled man stood to her right; he had dark hair that parted in the middle and a mustache. He only stood knee-high to Sam but had a most serious look on his face that meant business. The man in the back of the group holding the cat was lanky and thin. Older in age, he was balding on top but had rather long graying hair past his shoulders, a mean case of 5 o'clock shadow, and a permanent scowl.

"What business do you have here?" bellowed the bearded man with the half moon spectacles, and the encroaching mob stopped in their tracks.

Before either one of them could speak, again came the shrieking voice from above.

"I SAW THEM HEADMASTER! I SAW THEM APPARATE ONTO THE GROUNDS!"

"Thank you, Sybill." He replied in kind. "I shall handle it from here."

He turned toward the castle and spoke in a voice loud enough to be heard by all, but it was surprisingly calm and balanced.

"Students, please return to your dormitories. Teachers, please make sure everyone is accounted for and return to your chambers."

Instantly all the gawkers disappeared inside and the windows were shut. The group in front of the brothers remained, and now their attention was solely focused on them.

The man with the pointed nose and long greasy black hair took a step forward and whispered into the bearded man's ear.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you, Headmaster, that Apparating within Hogwarts grounds is impossible." he spoke in a slow and stressed drawl. "And I, for one, would like to know how they managed it."

"Yes of course, Severus."

Sam and Dean stood watching the events unfold in front of them. They stood in awkward stances somewhere between fight and flight, their faces still struck with awe.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore." said the bearded man in his strikingly calm demeanor. "I will ask you gentlemen once again. What business do you have here, and how is it that you managed to bypass not only our school defenses, but also the Dementors currently guarding the grounds?"

Neither one of them could find the words to speak. They both stood slacked-jawed, unable to form a coherent sentence. They stuttered. They held their breath. They blew it out. Nothing seemed to help. They looked at each other as if doing so they could mutually come up with a good enough story to tell, but nothing came out. So instead they stood there, still soaked to skin from the rain before with no answers.

The woman in the emerald green robes stepped forward. "Headmaster, if I may?" she offered.

"Yes, Minerva?" he looked at her with his intensely blue eyes.

"These two men are obviously in a state of shock. I don't believe they know how they got here either." she stated matter-of-factly.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. He looked at them, as if trying to figure them out. He then turned his attention to the snow on the ground. He looked at it with a curiosity and wonder which seemed to change his impression of the two strangers shivering in it. "It looks as though you may be correct. Perhaps Madame Pomfrey should take a look at them."

"Headmaster!" said the one called Severus. "It could be a ruse. I would be more than happy to provide some Veritaserum to extract the truth from them. The last thing we need is spies of You Know Who in the castle."

"Quite right, and perhaps in time, Severus." said Dumbledore, maintaining his calm tone. He stood and thought on it a moment, looking the brothers over as if sizing them up. "We shall see." he said. "In the meantime, bring them to the Hospital Wing -"

Severus opened his mouth to protest.

"Under supervision of course, Severus." Dumbledore said holding his hand up to still his objection. He then turned to the man with the cat. "Argus, if you would be so kind as to make sure the children are not wandering about?"

"My pleasure, Sir!" he said and smiled with his crooked teeth in an almost pleased manner. "Let's find them, my sweet." he said to the cat, and she leaped out of his arms and ran inside ahead of him kicking snow off of her paws as she went. He all but skipped back into the castle after her with his orders.

"I have a small matter I must see to, I will join you in the Hospital Wing shortly." said Dumbledore and he turned and hurried into the castle alone.

The brothers were suddenly surrounded by the group of teachers. Dean flinched away from Severus' reaching grasp for his arm, which made the Wizard raise his wand. Sam turned to him in a panic.

"Dean! Just go with it! Don't fight them!" Sam urged under his breath.

He gave Sam an intense look of displeasure and begrudgingly let himself be carted away.

They were led up the steps and through the massive castle doors. Once inside, the torchlight illuminated the great foyer. It was blissfully empty of young, prying eyes. Sam looked around, heart thumping in his chest. He couldn't tell if it was from fear or from the shear excitement of actually being inside of Hogwarts. As they moved toward the staircase he risked a glance behind them to see the House Point hourglasses that lined the front wall of the room. He saw them, two on each side of the doors. They towered above everyone; each filled with gems of the corresponding House colors.

Satisfied they truly existed he turned back to the front just in time to stumble on the first step. They were moved through the corridors under the intense scrutiny of not only their escorts but also the portraits on the walls. The men and women painted on the canvases moved, not only within their own frames, but also into eachother's. They exchanged information in hushed tones and quickly ran to the next frame to continue spreading the news of the intruders and their bizarre appearance on the grounds.

The group of them turned a corner and entered a room that was almost as tall as the tower itself. A Grand Staircase wrapped around the room, and hundreds and hundreds of pictures lined the walls; most of which could be seen still spreading the word like a climbing wildfire.

Dean looked up and took it all in. To his astonishment, the flights of stairs moved! He watched them shift between corridors on either side of the tower. It was at this moment he wish he had read the books, or at the very least paid attention when he watched the movies with Charlie. As they walked up the staircase, to his shock it began to move under his feet.

"Whoa!" Dean quietly muttered, surprised by the sudden movement. This caused Minerva to momentarily drop her hardened demeanor by letting the smallest smile creep across her lips. Sam saw this as they briefly made eye contact. Minerva cleared her throat and the smile left her face.

They climbed the steps up to the fourth floor where they disembarked. Yet another long hallway greeted them. Along the passage the group heard a maniacal laughter and a cold breeze rushed past them.

The brothers stopped dead in their tracks and looked around wildly for the source. The rest of the group paused with them. The laughter continued all around them and echoed down the corridor.

"What the hell is that, Sam?" Dean shouted.

"How should I know?" he answered.

"Keep walking." said Severus, eager to get the two nuisances to the Hospital Wing. "It is only Peeves."

"Peeves?" Dean asked.

"The resident Poltergeist." Severus pushed through his teeth in an obviously annoyed tone.

Peeves suddenly flew through the wall to their right and immediately took to flying around in loops above the group as they walked. The brothers ducked and dodged Peeves' plunges toward them. They both swatted at him as he passed but he would fly out of their reach only to turn and taunt them by blowing raspberries and making rude gestures.

"Peeves!" Minerva shouted sternly. "Now is hardly the appropriate time or place!"

"I'm just having a bit of funsies!" Peeves hooted.

"Later, Peeves." she maintained her strict tone. "Now be off before I must fetch the Bloody Baron!"

Peeves looked aghast. "Oh, my my my my my!" he feigned. "One mustn't have mad ghosties floating about! Especially with company! Tsk, tsk, tsk!" With a tremendous cackle he back flipped through the opposite wall and disappeared.

Dean and Sam exchanged looks and shrugged off the weird.

"Somebody want to explain what the hell that was all about?" Dean asked.

Severus turned on the spot grabbing Dean's collar and raised his wand once again just mere inches from the tip of Dean's nose.

"I hardly think you are in the position to ask the questions here." he said menacingly.

"Severus!" Minerva cried. "The Headmaster gave instructions to take them to the Hospital Wing and nothing more. We shall do as we are told." Her voice softened a bit. "Is that understood, Severus?"

The brooding wizard took his time answering. His dark, narrowed eyes fixed onto Dean's. Severus looked deep into them and Dean felt as if he was trying to stare directly into his soul and rip the answers out himself.

"Of course." he said after a heavy moment of silence, and he released his grip on Dean. "I have every confidence that Dumbledore will sort it all."

"Good!" she replied. "Then I trust we shall have no further delays in getting these boys to their destination."

Severus visibly choked back his words as he corrected his posture and straightened the front of his robes. "Indeed." he answered slowly and simply. With a touch of dramatic flair, his robes whooshed around him as he turned and sped walked ahead of the group.

When Severus was reasonably out of earshot Dean leaned over to Sam as they followed and whispered, "What crawled up his ass and died?"

"It's a long story." replied Sam.


	3. 2: Don't Bring Me Down

Chapter 2

By the time the rest of the group arrived at the Hospital Wing, Severus was already in mid conversation with Madam Pomfrey. The woman wore brown robes with a white apron and nurse's hat. Her hand was over her mouth and her blue eyes wide with shock as Severus told her of the news.

The Hospital Wing itself was immense. The ceilings were impossibly high and cathedral-like and came down to meet tall windows that were spaced evenly down the elongated room's walls. Between each of the windows sat hospital beds flanked by heavy white curtains. At the end of the room, arched in the stone was a single wooden door.

As the brothers took in their surroundings, the woman nodded to Severus and approached them.

"I am Madam Pomfrey, and I am the Matron here. And I don't mind telling you both that I won't tolerate any funny business. If you want to cause trouble, we have plenty of dungeons for you to spend the night in instead of here!"

Sam and Dean felt her stern, no-nonsense voice press upon them and they immediately felt as if they'd been regressed to school children themselves. They both looked at her and before they knew it they were nodding in agreeance.

Dean felt a wave of panic and thought, _Don't piss this chick off!_ He paused a moment after the thought left him and shook his head to clear it. _That was weird_ , he thought.

Sam experienced a sense of authority much like his father's. That feeling he got when he was young and John Winchester spoke. What he said was the bottom line and that's the way it was like it or not. "Mmmhmm." Sam hurriedly agreed. Then he too shook that bizarre feeling away as quickly as it came.

"Now that that is out of the way, Gentlemen, would you care to introduce yourselves?" Madam Pomfrey said.

There was an unintentional pause as the brothers strained to find their tongues.

"Well?" she said, a little more forcefully than she intended which made them jump.

"Hi, erm . . ." began Sam as he cleared his throat. "I - I am Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean."

"Well, Sam and Dean, don't just stand there! Change into some dry clothes!" she said and moved toward her desk. "There's no sense in you getting sick in those soaked things."

"We haven't got any other clothes." said Sam.

She stopped and turned around. "They are on your cots. You _do_ know what a cot looks like, don't you?" and she motioned to the hospital beds.

"Oh!" they both exclaimed and muttered things like "sure they did" and "of course." They chose a pair of beds next to each other and laid down on them.

"Dumbledore will be here shortly to speak with you both. You may change and rest until he gets here." Pomfrey said as she continued to her desk.

The rest of the entourage they arrived with slowly departed the last one to leave being Severus. He eyed the pair coldly, staring down his pointed nose at them. When he was gone, the brothers were finally able to relax a bit. Madam Pomfrey sat at her desk and went about busily concocting some sort of potion by mixing different liquids from several bottles into two cups.

The brothers pulled the curtains around their beds and changed into what were essentially hospital gowns and robes. Dean pulled open the curtain between their beds and they both laid down. After a few minutes, Dean turned over on his side to face Sam and whispered lowly. "Sammy, what the hell are we going to do?"

"I have no idea. I just can't believe we are actually here. I can't get my mind around it." Sam said. "I mean, we're _actually_ here."

"Yeah? Well, you're busy fangirling over there, you said we're in serious trouble. So how are we going to get out of this? Cass zapped us into a freaking book!"

"I don't know. I mean, it's a book. We don't know how we got here, so I guess we're just going to have to find a way out." Sam said.

"The whole way up here I was trying to call Cass to come get us out of here and he hasn't shown up. So either he is ignoring us, or he can't hear us."

"Well. . ." Sam began. "The only thing I can come up with is that we just play our role. Cass sent us here to protect Harry, so maybe that's just what we do."

Dean rolled his eyes wildly. "You mean like when Gabriel trapped us in TV Land? Dr. Sexy? We gotta do _that_ again?"

"Well, not Dr. Sexy per se, but yeah. The way I figure it is that we just gotta do what Cass sent us to do. We gotta find Harry Potter and protect him."

"Uh yeah, there's just one problem, genius. We're not wizards. How are we supposed to do that? Isn't there some evil dick out to get him? What's his name?

"Voldemort." a voice said that wasn't Sam's. "His name is Lord Voldemort."

The brothers jumped and sat upright in the beds. Mere feet away from the both of them stood Dumbledore in his purple robes. In his hands he held the two cups Madam Pompfrey had been fixing.

"Dumbledore!" Sam exclaimed. "I . . . how long have you been there?"

"Long enough to learn that you are not of this world, and that you have a mission." the aged man said calmly and handed a cup to each of them.

A moment of silent disbelief passed between the brothers.

"Yes, that's basically right." Sam said finally. "You see, Dumbledore, where we come from, the story of Harry Potter is a book. Seven books actually. It's a work of fiction."

"And I assure you, young man, that where I come from it is all very real. The danger is real. The consequences are real. The lives of everyone here . . . are real."

"I think we're beginning to realize that." Dean said.

"Please, drink your potions. They will warm you and keep you from becoming ill. Be sure to drink them all, or Poppy will surely be cross."

Sam and Dean looked into their cups. The liquid bubbled slightly and gave off a sweet, spicy scent like cinnamon and cloves. The cups were warm to the touch and very inviting. They both drank and felt an instant warmth creep down their throats, into their stomachs, and then radiated into their extremities and out to their fingers and toes.

"Oh, wow." said Dean. "Remind me to get the recipe."

"Now, you have been sent here to protect one of our students. Sent by whom?" Dumbledore asked getting back to the subject at hand.

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you." said Dean.

"I think you'll find I can believe in quite a few odd things, Dean Winchester."

"Dean," Sam said, "We just told him that we're from another world and he accepted it like we told him the sky was blue."

"Okay, you got a point." Dean said with a shrug and took another swig.

"Honesty is a fleeting thing." said Dumbledore. "Rather than letting Severus extract the information from you using one of his potions, I thought it best to hear the truth from you whilst not under duress. Honesty tends to present itself when one thinks nobody is watching."

"Well, sir," Sam started. "We were sent by our friend Castiel. He's . . ." he glanced over a Dean and swallowed before meeting Dumbledore's eyes with his. "He's an Angel."

Dumbledore paused in thought. After what seemed like several minutes, he pursed his lips and nodded. He stepped forward and sat on the end of Sam's bed. "The way you came here?" he asked them. "I overheard you say you are Muggles. So what Sybil witnessed was not Apparation."

"Muggles?" Dean asked.

"Non-Magical persons." Sam and Dumbledore said together which surprised Dean.

"You are such a nerd, Sammy." he told his brother, then caught the eye of Dumbledore. "Sorry." he apologized.

"That's right, sir." said Sam, ignoring his brother. "We didn't Apparate here. Cass, just . . . well . . . zapped us here."

"Zapped?" Dumbledore queried raising an eyebrow.

"Well that's what we call it. There isn't a technical name for it really. He can, uh . . . Apparate at will. But he can touch our foreheads and send us places."

"Ah. I see." said Dumbledore. "And why did he send you here?"

"Well, he is confused right now. We have been . . . how do I say this?" Sam said.

Dean seized the moment and jumped in. "We're Hunters. The hunt monsters and evil things and we kill them."

Dumbledore raised both of his eyebrows in what almost seemed like amusement.

"It's a really long story but here is the gist." Dean continued. "We were raised by our father who was a Hunter. Family business you might say. Back then it was a lot simpler. We hunted monsters that were killing people. I'm talking about Demons, Ghosts, Shapeshifters, Ghouls, Werewolves, Vampires, the whole enchilada. Then life got complicated. Found out Angels were also real. God disappeared, Heaven and Hell started wars and we got caught up in it." Dean took a breath and waited for Dumbledore to try to object. When he didn't he continued.

"Castiel had his Grace stolen by a dick Angel named Metatron and he isn't thinking too clearly. He thought the Harry Potter books were real and sent us here to protect some kid as if we even know how to do that. What's more, we don't even know how to get back to _our_ world so we're stuck here!" he finished and punched his pillow.

The brothers waited for Dumbledore to shoot down their explanation of events and accuse them of being spies or worse. But no ridicule came, instead came something the two did not expect. The old wizard began to laugh.

Sam and Dean looked at each other as he chortled away utterly confused at his reaction.

"What's so funny?" Dean asked

Dumbledore quieted himself and spoke plainly. "It's just that you say that our world is a work of fiction when it is yours that sounds like the fairytale!" he chuckled once more before continuing. "Perhaps your world is the one written on the pages and ours is the reality, hmm? Regardless of which of us is the work of fiction, you are here now. And if you are indeed here to protect Harry, then we shall have to give you the advantage to do so."

"Great!" Sam said much to the chagrin of Dean. "If I may ask, which book are we in?"

"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore asked not understanding the question.

"I mean, which year is this for Harry? I know what is supposed to happen, I've read all seven books. All the teachers are here, and you're still . . ." Sam stopped himself.

"You have foreknowledge, Sam." Dumbledore held up his hand. "It is both dangerous, and useful. You must choose carefully which knowledge is to be used."

Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed and leaned forward. "Wait a second. Doesn't that all change now?"

"What?" asked Sam.

"The story. It's gotta change now, right? I mean, we're not supposed to be in the books. . . sorry, in this world I mean. But now that we're here, doesn't that change everything?"

"Oh my God." said Sam. "You're right! It's an alternate time stream now.

"Which is why," Dumbledore interjected, "Your foreknowledge is dangerous. You must not interfere with things that are meant to be." With this he turned to Sam and looked into his eyes in a pressing manner. "Some things are not meant to be changed. You cannot save what is not meant to be saved."

Sam felt as if Dumbledore knew. As if he could read what was in his head as easily as reading it off a page. He felt a strong pang of regret to admit that in his heart he knew he would try to save him from his fate, and somehow, so did Dumbledore.


	4. 3: Abracadabra

Chapter 3

Dumbledore, satisfied that his warning was taken seriously, picked up the conversation where it had diverged.

"Harry is in his third year of Hogwarts. And as it so happens, the students have arrived only today." Dumbledore said. Sam nodded and tried to remember the details of the book.

"I can't believe that Cass sent us here completely defenseless." said Dean. "How the hell does he expect us to help a kid in a world where everyone has a magic wand and we have bupkis? He's gonna have to save _our_ asses!"

"Well, back home we have done magic." said Sam.

"Oh, no, no, no." Dean protested. "Magic like that is completely different. Hex bags and goofer dust? Summoning demons and making Devil's Traps are, are. . . just shopping lists and recipes." Dean looked at Sam and Dumbledore who both stared back at him with expectant eyes, as if any second he would recognize the similarity. "What? Its not like we have wands and are shooting down demons."

"Dean, magic ability is not something that is taken for granted. You either poses it, or you do not. In your world is everyone of capable of magic?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well, no. There are Witches there but they are usually evil and we end up having to. . ."

"Dean." Sam said softly. Dean looked his way and saw Sam shaking his head as if to say, _please don't finish that sentence._

"Anyway." he shrugged off his previous statement. "There are a lot of people out there who try do magic, mostly teenagers and hippies, but it's not _real magic._ Then there are those who actually get their hands on the real stuff."

"And are they all evil in the end?" asked Dumbledore.

"No." Sam answered. "There are good witches and bad witches."

"As there are here." Dumbledore beamed gently. "So it stands to reason, that you two may not be Muggles after all."

Sam perked up at the thought. "Really?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Slow your roll, Glinda." he chided his brother.

"Think about it, Dean." Sam protested. "What if we _can_ do magic here? I mean, _their_ kind of magic. We would be able to defend ourselves and actually do what we were sent here to do."

Dean stood up from the bed. "This whole thing is nuts!" he shouted.

"Ssssssshhhhhhh!" Madam Pomfrey scolded from somewhere behind the white curtains.

"Sorry." Sam offered. "Is there a way to test it, Dumbledore?"

"As a matter of fact there are several!" he said almost joyfully. "We can start first thing in the morning. But for now, you two must rest. You will stay here in the Hospital Wing tonight, and tomorrow rooms will be prepared for you."

"Thank you, sir." said Sam.

Dean sat back down and resigned himself to the fact he had no other choice but to accept things as they were. "Yeah, thanks." he said with a sigh.

"Goodnight, gentlemen." said Dumbledore and he stood and pulled the curtains closed behind him, They watched as Dumbledore's shadow and Madam Pomfrey's held a brief conversation before he turned and headed for the door.

Sam and Dean got into their beds, the springs creaking loudly under the weight of their adult bodies. Madam Pomfrey drew back the curtain and entered. She immediately began picking up the brother's wet clothes.

"All settled in?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Sam answered.

"I will have your clothes laundered for you, and I trust you won't be needing anything till the morning?"

"No, thanks we're good." said Dean.

"Then have a good rest, the Headmaster will fetch you in the morning. Now drink up! I'll not have you sick!" she said and turned on her heals and disappeared through the curtains, closing them once more. Her shadow moved toward the back of the room where they heard a door open and close. Then all was silent except for the faint crackling of the torches on the walls.

The brothers downed the rest of their potions, which left them feeling warm and cozy as they lie in their beds. They began trying to wind down their thoughts of what had happened over the last couple hours.

Dean was angry but beyond exhausted. He couldn't believe he was stuck in yet another situation where there were too many unknown variables. Could they get home? How long would they be stuck here? He decided to worry about it later as the potion began to take effect and he turned over on his side, and passed out.

Sam on the other hand lay there like a kid on Christmas Eve. His mind raced, wondering what tomorrow would hold. Would they be Muggles? Would they be Wizards? Would they be stuck here, or would they find a way home? Question after question came until they all blended together into a sleepy drone of magical lull, and soon his eyelids slammed shut and he was out cold.

Morning came all too soon. Sam awoke to Madam Pomfrey lightly jiggling his arm.

"Wake up, lazy bones!" she said.

Sam opened his eyes and her face came into focus. "Oh! Sorry." Memories of the night before came rushing back. _So it wasn't a dream after all,_ he thought. Dean was already awake, dressed in his own laundered clothes, and tying his shoes.

"Wake up, Glinda. Big day!" he said sarcastically.

"The Headmaster should be here any minute." Madam Pomfrey informed them and scuttled off to tend to a student with legs that wobbled uncontrollably.

Sam grabbed his clothes and changed. A few minutes passed and Dumbledore arrived at the Hospital Wing. He stood in the door and waved them over. They put on their jackets and walked over to him.

"Good morning." he greeted them.

"Good morning." They repeated.

"If you would be so kind as to follow me to the Great Hall, breakfast is served."

"Oh, good." Dean said. "It's about time we got some grub."

They followed Dumbledore down the corridors, blessedly Peeves-free. They continued down the staircase with moving sections and the seemingly living portraits. The aroma of food wafted through the air and grew stronger and stronger till they reached the Great Hall.

The three men entered through the huge double doors. Sam's eyes grew wide with excitement at seeing the four long tables of the Hogwarts Houses lined on either side with chattering students. The head table stood length-wise along the back wall that sat all of the Professors. Dean's eyes grew wide as he saw all the food that literally covered the tables from end to end. Sausages, and pastries, and meat pies, and whatever the heck that stuff is. Sam saw his brother start to salivate hungrily and nudged him with his elbow.

"What?" he said. "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry." Sam jested.

"Dude! It's a free buffet! When was the last time we ate?"

"Eh. Good point."

Dumbledore turned to them, "Gentlemen, you will be sitting at the head table with the rest of the adults."

"Uh, Dumbledore?" Sam asked.

"Yes?"

"What will you be telling the students about us?"

"Don't worry Sam," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I have a plan. Please follow me."

As they walked to the head table, several students looked up from their meals and began to whisper as they trailed them with their eyes, followed shortly with even more heads turning their way.

Dumbledore whispered to Sam and Dean as they walked. "I have already held a meeting with the rest of the staff. I have told them only what they needed to know about your presence here."

They reached the head table and took their seats on the end. All of the adults were looking down the table at them. Some the brothers recognized from the night before, others that were unfamiliar including a giant bearded man. Severus sneered, Minerva smiled ever-so-slightly, and the shrieking woman named Sybill sat next to them staring out of her thick round glasses at them. Dean immediately started to fill his plate with food and poured himself a drink. Sam followed en suit but with far less gusto.

Dumbledore took the middle seat but instead of sitting he raised his hands for silence as he quieted the room. "If I may have your attention please?" he spoke loudly enough to be heard over the din.

The room suddenly went quiet and all eyes were on him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, in addition to last night's announcements regarding Dementors guarding the school grounds, by now I'm sure you are all well aware that we had guests arrive late last night. We had expected the arrival, just not the method _of_ arrival. With the increased security, these two gentlemen had to take alternate means. They arrived by portkey, and did not, in fact, Apparate onto the grounds. An owl simply got lost on the way here with the news of the Portkey and their late arrival. But, they have arrived! Eagerly awaited, I would like to introduce to you Professors Sam and Dean Winchester."

As the room began their welcoming applause, Dean, who had been sipping his pumpkin juice, snorted into his glass at the word 'Professors'.

Dumbledore turned toward the pair in reference and Sam nudged his brother to stand up. Dean did so.

"Is he freaking nuts?" Dean asked under his breath. "What the hell are we supposed to teach?"

"Calm down. Don't make a scene, just smile and wave." said Sam. They both did so and sat back down.

"Their classes will be announced at a later time, but for now, please enjoy your breakfast, and your last day before classes." As he sat down the chatter resumed.

Dean wasn't happy, but he stuffed his stomach full of delicious foods which partially improved his mood.

Sam looked out over the roomful of students. He located the Gryffindor table and scanned the students sitting along both sides. He elbowed Dean who was shoving pancakes into his mouth.

"Mmph! Wuff uh hhhmm ih rawr wif oo!" he protested with his mouth full.

"Look!" Sam pointed with his fork. "There he is. That's Harry."

Dean looked and saw the dark haired mop top between a pretty young blonde and a flaming red head who was also shoveling food into his mouth. They were huddled over a newspaper and reading it to each other.

"Okay." Dean said after swallowing. "What do we do?

"Well, we can't do anything right now. We will have to follow Dumbledore's lead, he is the one calling the shots."

"Then can I eat?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

At the end of breakfast, the Great Hall was mostly empty save for a few stragglers. Dumbledore returned to the brothers and bid them follow him to the staffroom just off to the side of the head table.

It was richly decorated with heavy antique furniture, tapestries and a warm fireplace. Even a few of those inhabited portraits hung on the walls. In the room waiting for them were several of the Professors.

"May I formally introduce Sam and Dean Winchester to you all." Dumbledore said cheerfully.

They were met with nods, some approving some disapproving. Some smiled, some . . . not so much.

All the professors from the night before were present, and a few others they'd not yet met. Hooch, Sinistra, and Vector they introduced themselves shortly.

"Each of our Professors here have agreed to provide tests for you as you requested. There are several subjects we can test you in among them. As you are not accustomed to our kind of magic, it may be difficult to find something that may manifest your abilities without proper wands." said Dumbledore. "Argus has found a couple of wands in the lost and found that you may try. As they are not your wands they may work, they may not. Then again, it may come perfectly natural to you. We shall find out soon, but first, I would like you to try performing magic that you _are_ accustom to. "

"Uuuuuuh." the brothers hesitated.

"Anything that you think may work. Is there anything that you may require?

"Sir," Sam tried to explain. "What we do in our line of work is dangerous stuff. It usually requires us to perform exorcisms, trapping demons, or summon things that we really shouldn't be summoning, especially around the students."

"Ah. Well, I thank you for erring on the side of caution. But there must be something you can try."

"Well, I mean we could make something, but then we'd have to go out and find a monster to see if it works. We use a lot of sigils and protection spells and hex bags to hide us from things. But there is no telling if those things even exist here. Well, I'm sure some do, but not in the same form." Sam shrugged dejectedly.

"Come on, Sam. Stop wasting their time and ours. This is stupid." Dean said gruffly.

"Young man," said Dumbledore, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Please do not give up so easily, we've only begun. I would like to try something with our flying instructor, Rolanda Hooch."

A grey haired woman with yellow cat eyes stepped forward and handed the brothers a broom each. "Now!" she began right away. "Place your brooms on the ground."

They looked at her confused. "Spit spot!" she insisted and they did as they were told. "Now as with all my new students, I will instruct you on the basics. Stand on the left side of your broom." They moved into position. "Raise your right hand above the broom and command it by saying, 'Up'."

Dean looked at Sam as if to say, 'are we really doing this?'

"Just do it, Dean." Sam said. He looked down at his broom. "Up!" Nothing happened.

"Try again." said Rolanda. "You have to force your will upon the broom and command it."

"Sam, this is –"

"Shut up, Dean! Up!" he said again. Nothing happened.

"Concentrate!" she coached.

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _Damn broom!_ he thought. _You will listen to me!_

"UP!" he shouted and to everyone's surprise it shot up off the ground and he caught it. There was a gasp from the group and a light applause from a few of them.

"Well!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "It seems we have a new wizard in our midst."

Sam wore his excitement and surprise on his face. "I'm a wizard Dean!"

"Oh, geeze!" Dean rolled his eyes.

Suddenly all eyes were on Dean and Dumbledore again placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Magic ability runs in the family. If Sam is a wizard, then there is a very good chance that you are as well. Please?" he said and motioned toward the broom on the floor. "Try."

Dean stepped up to his broom, held his left hand over it and cleared his throat. "Up." he said. Nothing happened.

"Again!" Rolanda urged.

He cleared his throat again. "Up!" The broom lay there unmoving.

"Concentrate. Command it." The cat-eyed woman insisted.

Dean stared at the broom intently, and everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath. "UP!" he said with as much authority as he could muster. Nothing happened.

"Look, this isn't going to work." Dean said finally. "Maybe I'm just not a wizard."

"Headmaster, if I may?" said a familiar slow and deliberate voice. The brothers turned to see Severus had stepped forward from the group of Professors.

 _Oh, this guy,_ thought Dean.

"He is imprudent and headstrong. If he does have magical abilities, perhaps they lie deeper?"

"What do you suggest, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

"We could try Occlumency." Severus offered.

"Indeed we could." said Dumbledore.

"Occu-what now?" Dean asked, nearing the end of his rope.

"Occlumency, Mister Winchester, is the magical defense of the mind against external penetration."

"You want to penetrate me?" Dean said incredulously.

"Dean." Sam stepped in. "He means to be able to block your thoughts from being read. You know. Like a Jedi."

"Jedi?" Dean perked up.

"Just think of it like that. Use the Force to stop him from reading your mind."

"You want me to use the Force?"

"If it helps you focus." Sam said. "Same principle."

"Fine, Sam. You want to be a wizard, I'll be a freaking Jedi." Dean sniffed. "Okay fine. How do we do this?"


	5. 4: Magic Man

Chapter 4

Severus motioned to a comfortable looking arm chair in front of the fireplace. "Have a seat, Mister Winchester." His words slowly rolled off his tongue.

Dean traveled over to it and sat down. Sam followed and sat in the chair across from him.

Severus stood over him menacingly, a hand on each of Dean's armrests.

"Be gentle with me, it's my first time." Dean messed.

"Cheeky. How very like Potter you are." said Severus through his teeth. He paused for a moment, creating a bit of dramatic tension, and then stood upright and began to pace slowly as he continued to speak. "I shall attempt to use Legilimency on you, the art of delving into the mind of another to seek their memories and emotions. You will attempt to keep me out of your mind using Occlumency. We will begin, Mister Winchester, with you clearing your mind. Wipe it clean. Clear the slate . . . _if_ you can manage that." he said with a biting tone.

Dean breathed in deep and let it out slowly. He didn't like the idea one bit, but what the hell could he do when all eyes were on him. "Fine. Let's do this." he said.

"Let us begin." Severus said, taking much delight in finding out what was in Dean's head. He drew his wand and pointed it at Dean who then closed his eyes and winced slightly. "Keep your mind clear, Winchester. No emotions. No thoughts."

 _I can do this,_ Dean thought, and he let his mind go blank.

" _Legilimens!_ " Severus said with a flourish of his wand.

For a split second the room rushed past Dean, and as it did, he felt as if he was being sucked out of his conscious mind with a vacuum. In a flash he was inside his own head. Suddenly Dean was a little boy again. He saw his mother and his father. He saw his little, baby brother Sam. He reached out for them only to be separated from them by a wall of fire. He saw the flicker of ominous yellow eyes within the flames and heard his mother's screams. He was being swept up by his father with baby Sam in his other arm.

Dean's eyes shot open. He felt flushed and warm and he found his shoulders bunched up around his ears. Severus' voice brought him back to the room he was in.

"You're not even trying. Keep . . . me . . . out!" he chided Dean. "Once again! _Legilimens!_ "

With the wave of Severus' wand, the both of them were in Dean's head again. Now he was a teenager. Dean protected his little brother from a lurking figure while Sam slept. His vision blurred. Now they were adults. He was talking to Sam about finding their father's journal. Then the memories of hunts came flooding back to him. Faster and faster they came. Vampires . . . Werewolves . . . Fairies . . . the Wendigo . . . Tessa the Reaper . . . Meg . . . The Roadhouse. . . Ruby . . . Ghosts . . . Demons . . . Angels . . . Leviathans . . . Bennie . . . Lilith . . .The Four Horsemen . . . Bobby . . . memories of Hellhounds tearing him apart. _NO!_ Dean thought _Don't show me that!_

Again, Severus' voice came through and echoed over the landscape of his mind. "Push me out! If you don't want me to see it you must prevent me from seeing it."

There was a sudden surge within him. Not only were the memories now coming quicker, but they were more vivid, more real. He was bouncing back and forth in his memories. Mom, Dad. Sammy. Older. Younger. There he was, standing in front of a karaoke machine in a dive bar, with black eyes . . . Kevin deciphering the Angel Tablet . . . Eve . . . Now he was standing at a crossroads with Crowley . . . Castiel killing the Archangel on the side of the road and telling Sam and Dean about a magical boy that needed their protection . . . Now he was fighting for his life in Purgatory . . . Running from a crowd of people infected with the Croatoan Virus . . . Watching Sam drinking Demon blood. . . . Sam becoming Lucifer . . . Adam . . .

 _No!_ Dean screamed at the memory. _Stop!_

 _MAKE ME STOP!_ commanded Severus.

Now he was torturing Alistair as he was hanging up on a rack in a Devil's Trap . . . _No!_

Cain was passing his Mark to him. . . _No! Stop!_

Suddenly he was back in Hell . . . _NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_ he roared.

Dean opened his eyes in time to see several things happen all at once. Severus was thrown backward with such force he landed on the floor up against Sam's legs. No less than three potted plants burst out of their ceramic bases, and much to everyone's surprise, the roaring fire spit out hundreds of embers into the room which prompted several Professors to point their wands and start extinguishing little fires on the rug.

All eyes were on Dean who was still gripping his chair white-knuckled. He had broken out into a sweat and was shaking slightly. "Mister Winchester," Severus said as he relieved himself from Sam's lap. "I believe you have your answer . . . and I believe I have mine." He straightened the front of his robes and retreated into the shadowy corner of the room.

Dumbledore came into Dean's view.

"Well done, Dean!" he said clapping his hands together. "It seems you both have magic ability here after all!"

"Don't _ever_ make me do that again!" Dean said as Sam stood and helped his brother out of his seat. He steeled himself for a moment and then looked around the room. "Okay. Great. We're Wizards. What's next?"

Sam put a hand on his arm. "Maybe we ought to slow down a bit, you just –."

"I'm fine!" he said a bit too forcefully. "I'm fine. Let's just. . . . get this over with so we can do what we came here to do." He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Sam continued to stare. "I'm good." Dean insisted and absentmindedly rubbed his arm where the Mark was, which caught Sam's attention.

Minerva came sweeping into the middle of the room and broke up the moment. "Well done, boys! Now you will need to go get your wands. We could go to the wand shop in Hogsmeade . . . Oh, but you'll want to have Ollivander fit you with your wands. You won't be much help without them so we must go immediately. Headmaster, with your permission I will take them straight away."

"Oh yes. Quite right, Minerva. You may us my office if you so wish." Dumbledore agreed, his eyes twinkling.

"Office?" Sam asked. "Isn't Ollivander's shop in London?"

"Of course young man but how did you intend to get there?" she asked.

"Oh. Well . . . I thought maybe the Hogwarts Express?" Sam said hopefully.

This caused a mighty round of laughter from the staff, all except Severus who kept to his corner.

"Young man, we don't have time for a leisurely ride through the country side. If we are going to train you in any sort of timely manner we must use a more expedient means of travel." Minerva chortled.

"Which means what?" Dean asked.

"Well you can't fly a broom, we haven't the time to create a Portkey. Side Along Apparition may be too rough for you if you've never traveled that way before. Not to mention it would require we travel to Hogsmeade first. There is only one real option left isn't there?"

Sam thought a moment and as the thought came to him his eyes lit up immediately. "Floo travel! Right?"

"Correct, Mister Winchester!" Minerva said with a smile. Sam grinned from ear to ear like a kid. He always thought the Flu Network was an ingenious invention and secretly always wanted to try it.

"Follow me gentlemen. We must be off."

The brothers followed her out of room. As soon as they were gone, Dumbledore excused the rest of the staff save for the Professor still lurking in the corner.

"What did you see, Severus? What did you find out?" Dumbledore implored.

The Potions Master stepped out into the light and spoke in hushed tones with the aged wizard.

"Such things I saw." He was noticeably shaken, something few people had ever seen. "Their lives are soaked in blood. The evil they have both faced. These men are dangerous."

"Are they who say they are, Severus?" Dumbledore urged him. He gripped his arm and shook him slightly. "Are they here to protect Harry or harm him?"

"I saw . . ." he hesitated.

"Yes?"

"I saw the man who sent them here. He said they must find the boy to protect him. But, Headmaster! The violence these men are capable of . . . it knows no bounds." His breath rattled as he inhaled. "I have only seen such things done by the Dark Lord himself. How easy it is for them to . . . kill."

Dumbledore took a step back. He thought deeply on this new information and began to pace absentmindedly. He carried on this way for several minutes while Severus looked on silently. Dumbledore stood still and stroked his beard.

"If they are indeed here to protect the boy and they are as dangerous as you say, it stands to reason that they can be used as a weapon against the Dark Lord."

"As they are, they are they are useless. They know nothing of our magic. They are a liability. I fear for the safety of the students."

"They are dangerous, I concede to that fact, Severus. But they appear to be on our side of this conflict. They may still be useful. With Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban and the possibility that he may find his way to Hogwarts to harm Harry, we could use the extra manpower. If they are as formidable as you say, with the right training they could be assets."

"Headmaster, I –" Severus' voice strained.

"I understand your concern –"

"Let me show you!" he protested. "You must see for yourself!"

Dumbledore was stunned by his insistence. "Very well, Severus. As soon as my office is clear, we shall use the Pensive."

Minerva, Sam, and Dean approached the Griffin statue that guarded Dumbledore's office.

"Here we are!" she said. She raised her hands and said, "Pumpkin Pasties!"

Suddenly the Griffin sprang to life and shifted to reveal a hidden staircase which she quickly began to climb, the brothers in tow. At the top of the stairs was a door which they entered in haste. Inside was the Headmaster's office. It was dark as they entered, but in the din they could make out the many shelves lined with mysterious objects, bookcases with dusty old books and bobbles, and spindly legged tables with several shiny silver instruments on them. The Headmaster's desk sat upon a raised dais cluttered with scrolls. Behind the desk was a perch on which a beautiful red and gold plumed bird sat lightly snoozing.

"Oh wow!" exclaimed Sam. "Is that Fawkes?"

"Why, yes it is, Mister Winchester. You seem to know a lot about Hogwarts and what lies within these walls." Minerva said.

"Only what I've read." he shrugged. "May I?" he asked pointing toward the perch.

"You may try, Fawkes is particular with people." she answered him not being able to hide her amusement.

Sam approached the perch slowly. "Hey there, Fawkes. Hey buddy. I'm Sam."

"Hurry it up Bird Whisperer." Dean said.

"Don't ruin this for me, Dean. I've always wanted to. . . ." Sam's voice trailed off as he held out his hand. He eased himself up to the bird who was now fully alert and looking at him through one beady black eye, turning his head and looking with the other. He bobbed his head a few times as Sam approached him. Slowly, Sam let Fawkes see where his hand was as he brought it up. To his surprise, Fawkes let out a quiet squawk and leaned his head into Sam's hand.

"Goodness!" Minerva exclaimed clasping a hand to her chest. "Phoenixes are very intuitive creatures, Mister Winchester. You must be very good natured for them to be so accepting of new acquaintances."

"This is so . . ." the words escaped him.

Fawkes rubbed his head against Sam's arm and chirped softly. Sam removed his hand causing the bird to stretch out his wings. Little wisps of flame fluttered along his plumage down to his golden tail feathers.

"Whoa." Sam said lowly.

The Phoenix ruffled his feathers and began to clean underneath one of his wings. Sam turned his head toward the others and mouthed the words "THIS IS SO COOL!" barely containing himself. When he turned back around toward the bird, it had resurfaced from under his wing with something in his beak.

"My word!" Minerva gasped, her hands now cupping her mouth. "This is remarkable! Mister Winchester, have you any idea how rare and special this is?"

"What?" he didn't realize it at first but on closer inspection he had seen that Fawkes was holding one of his feathers. Sam caught his breath. "Is – is that for me?"

The bird seemed to nod, though it was more bobbing than nodding, and dropped the feather into Sam's open hand.

"Thank you, Fawkes. Thank you so much. I'll keep it with me always." he said tucking it into his shirt pocket. He smiled and stroked the bird one last time before rejoining Minerva and his brother in front of the fireplace.

"Well done, Mister Winchester!" said Minerva. "You have a way with animals. Perhaps you could assist Hagrid with his classes."

"You can call me Sam." he smiled.

Dean cleared his throat as if to remind them that he was still in the room. "So! Off to London, yeah?"

"Indeed." said Minerva. "Now, traveling by Floo Powder is simple enough." She reached up to the mantle and retrieved a small little jar and removed the lid. Inside was a fine glittery silver powder.

"All you need to do is take a handful of the powder and toss it into the flames. When the flames turn green, simply step inside and tell it where you want to go. Make sure to -."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time out!" said Dean with wide eyes. "Did you just say step into the flames?"

"Yes I did, young man. It's quite harmless I assure you." she said with a knowing smile. "Now, Sam, I know you are eager to jump right in so you can go first. When you say where you want to go, say Ollivander's Diagon Alley."

"Yeah, sure!" said Sam and stepped forward taking a handful of the silvery powder. He was about to throw his handful in when he suddenly stopped and turned toward his brother. "Oh! Um . . . Don't forget to enunciate." He threw his powder into the flames and the fire flared up and turned bright emerald green giving off no heat whatsoever. He tenderly worked himself into the fireplace by probing a foot into the flames. All seemed to be working just fine so he stood up straight and faced the other two.

Sam cleared his throat. "OLLIVANDER'S DI-A-GON ALLEY!" he said loudly, and with a flash and roar of the green blaze he was gone.

Dean stood there with his eyebrows in the middle of his forehead. His eyes were wide as he froze to the spot. He felt an uneasy lump in his throat start to form when Minerva offered the jar to him.

"Well off you go!" she said hurriedly.

Dean shook his head to clear it and took his handful of floo powder. The fire had already returned to its cozy warm orange-yellow glow. _If Sammy can do it, I can do it,_ he thought to himself. He tossed in the powder and again the emerald flames erupted from the firebox floor casting the room into an eerie glow. He used the same maneuver his brother did and prodded the flame with his foot. Amazingly he felt nothing. Dean walked all the way in and copied Sam's booming voice in an over-exaggerated manner raising his arms as he did so. "OLIVANDER'S DI-A-GON ALLEY!"

As the flames rose up around him he barely made out Minerva's voice as she yelled after him, "Keep your elbows in!" and everything began to spin wildly. Wind rushed past him and he could see flashes of people's living rooms every time he dared to open his eyes.

Before he knew it, he was tumbling out over the hearth of a fireplace in a dusty old shop. Sam had barely gotten up himself when his brother collided into the back of his legs and both of them fell into a heap on the floor.

Moments later Minerva came out of the fireplace and with a hop she landed lightly on her feet. She looked down to see the brothers in a pile. "Oh! Goodness! Well, you'll get the hang of it." She hiked up her robes and stepped over the brothers and approached the shop counter. There stood an elderly man who was peering over the counter bemusedly at what had just transpired.

Eventually the pair of them had gotten to their feet and found their balance.

"That was rough." said Dean.

"Could have been worse." Sam retorted, blinking his eyes trying to get them to focus.

"How so?" Dean asked, doing the same.

"Portkeys are described as feeling like a hook behind your stomach pulling you to your destination."

"Yeah, no thanks."

"And Apparating feels like being pressed in on all sides like a giant bear hug while your eyeballs get sucked into your head."

Dean looked at Sam. "I'll pass."

"At least this one is like a water slide. . . . ish."

"Yeah, big on the 'ish'."

Their attention was grabbed by the realization that the old witch and wizard in the room were staring at them. They fell silent and both felt terribly awkward.

Minerva gestured toward the two of them. "Garrick, I would like to introduce the Winchester brothers Sam and Dean. Boys, Mr. Garrick Ollivander."

"Hey." said Dean.

"Pleased to meet you." said Sam.

Minerva turned to the shopkeeper in earnest. "These two, believe it or not, have only just learned they are wizards. So, they will be needing their first wands." She reached into her robe's pocket and pulled out a little satchel and laid it on the counter with a clink.

The man gave a good hearty laugh. "Ah! Late bloomers, eh? Worry not, gentlemen; I have the finest wands in the world, so they say." he said with a grin taking the satchel and putting it into his own pocket. He then turned his attention toward his inventory.

It was only then when Sam and Dean took a look around the shop itself. Everywhere their eyes looked, the walls were lined with shelves floor to ceiling. Every single one was stacked high with long, slender boxes covered in ancient dust. Ollivander scanned the boxes with his eyes, his fingers twiddling thoughtfully in the air.

"It is a rare thing for wizards to come into their own at such an age, gentlemen. But, such wizards often have a knack for powerful magic once properly trained given they have the proper wands. Ah! Here we are!" he said finding the box he was looking for.

He tenderly inched out a box in the middle of a stack about two feet over his head and brought it to the counter. He set it down in front of Sam.

"Let's try Ash, 12 and ¾ inches. Dragon Heartstring. Springy." he said with a smile. "And for you," he said pointing at Dean briefly before scurrying over to a rolling ladder attached to the shelves. The old man leaned back and looked up somewhere toward the ceiling. He moved the ladder over about five feet to the right, took one more glance upward, and then began to climb. He went all the way to the top and scanned the boxes again. He began to gingerly pull out a box and about halfway he seemed to change his mind. He pushed that one back in and instead pulled a box that was up three and over two. Satisfied, he shimmied down the ladder and made his way over to the counter again.

"For you we shall try Cherry, 10 and ½ inches. Unicorn Hair. Fairly Flexible. Go ahead and give them a wave. Oh! But one at a time if you please." he said.

Dean looked at Sam and said, "Go ahead, you first."

Sam nodded and swished the wand through the air. An explosion of red fiery sparks exploded from the tip which caused everyone to jump. Sam immediately dropped the wand on the counter.

"That would be a 'no' on that one." said Ollivander as Sam put the wand back in the box. "Go ahead young man." he said to Dean.

Dean did as he was told and flicked his wrist sending a yellow-green blob of goo across the room which splattered the wall and left it dripping. "EUGH!" he exclaimed. "Guess this one isn't for me?"

"Actually, it's closer than I expected." said Ollivander.

"How can you tell?" asked Dean with a disgusted look on his face.

"Nothing exploded." he answered simply as he turned away toward his boxes once again. Dean put the wand back into the box on the counter and waited. Ollivander squeezed himself down a narrow pathway between overloaded shelves. He ran his fingers over a section of boxes and drummed them with his fingers. Seeming satisfied, he retrieved one.

"Alder, 13 inches. Dragon Heartstring. Bendy. " He set it in front of Sam on his way past them to the front of the shop. Several smaller bookshelves sat under the storefront windows. Ollivander stooped down and pulled a box from the second to bottom row and brought it back to Dean.

"For you I believe I have it! Rowan, 12 and ½ inches. Dragon Heartstring. Unyielding. "

Again, he unwrapped and opened the boxes presenting them to the brothers.

"At your leisure, sir." he said to Sam.

Sam nodded and with a subtle gulp he picked up the wand. He brought up the wand and swooped it in a U shape and almost immediately a giant fissure appeared in the ceiling with a thunderous CRACK!

"NOPE!" exclaimed everyone in the room. Ollivander took the wand from Sam's hand and hurried it away hiding it under the back of the counter.

"Have a go, Dean." said Ollivander gesturing to the wand.

Dean picked up the wand and a light wind kicked up around him. He found himself bathed in a white glow that emanated from the wand itself.

Minerva smiled. "Marvelous!" she said and clasped her hands together.

Ollivander stood there beaming. He had always taken pride his ability to narrow down a person's perfect wand in five tries or less.

"Now, Sam. I don't believe dragon heartstring is for you. Let's try something with unicorn hair." he said returning to his stacks.

"I have here," he said scanning the wall to their left. He located a box about shoulder height and pulled it down. ". . . a wand that is Willow, 14 inches. Unicorn hair. Nice and supple." He carefully untied and opened the box retrieving the wand. "I am quite sure it is this one."

As Sam reached for the wand being offered to him, his hand hadn't even touched it before the mysterious wind from nowhere began. His fingers gripped the handle as it passed from hand to hand, and the wind picked up so heavily it was like a mini storm inside the shop. Papers flew into the air as Sam began to glow with the same light as Dean. It was over in just a few seconds, but somehow it seemed more intense than Dean's experience. Sam looked like he had just stepped off a roller coaster the way the adrenaline pumped through his veins. He beamed through his freewheeling feeling.

Ollivander wore a curious expression. "How very interesting." he said.

"What's interesting?" Sam asked.

"The wand chooses the wizard, Mister Winchester. Willow wands have a tendency to choose witches and wizards of great potential. My family has always said, 'he who has the furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.' However the unicorn hair makes the wand somewhat temperamental. They may not be the most powerful wands, but it forms one of the strongest bonds with its owner. Sam . . ." Ollivander took a few steps toward him. "This wand has already attached itself to you completely."

"What does that mean?" Sam inquired.

"Have you formed any significant bonds lately? Ones of note, I mean." he pried.

"Not that I can think of."

"What about your bird, Sam?" said Dean.

Sam startled with recollection. "Oh!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out the feather Fawkes had given him.

Ollivander's eyes went wide with recognition. "Is that what I think it is?"

Minerva placed a hand on Ollivander's arm. "It was the most remarkable thing, Garrick!" she said. "He approached the phoenix for the very first time and it practically jumped into his lap!"

"May I?" Ollivander asked Sam.

"Yes, of course." he said and handed him the feather.

He looked it over as if it had all the delicateness of a Fabergé egg. "Aaaah!" he exclaimed. "It is a remige!"

"A what-now?" asked Dean.

"Remiges, or flight feathers come from the wing of course!" he laughed. "Every once in a great while, I am able to get my hands on Phoenix feathers for my wands. It is a happenstance very few and far between. On any other occasion, Mister Winchester, I would offer you a large compensation for such a prize. As it stands, this is a token and I cannot relieve you of it."

Ollivander moved to give the feather back but then stopped. "Actually . . . give me but a moment with it, Sam. I must do something special with it for you."

Dean, Sam, and Minerva all exchanged glances.

"Yeah, sure." Sam nodded.

The old wizard turned on the spot and headed down one of the cramped alleys between shelves. A few minutes later he returned with a box in his hands. He set it on the counter and started rummaging through it. He brought out a small jeweler's kit, removed a small necklace setting and fitted the calamus of the feather into it. Producing his wand, he muttered an incantation under his breath and a small golden fizzle sparked from the jewelry setting. He then went rummaging through the box once more. He found a long black length of leather cord and looped it through the setting and tied it off.

"Here we are." Ollivander said finally. "It's rather crudely made, I'm a Wandmaker not a Jeweler, but at least now you can wear it." He handed the necklace to Sam.

Sam turned it over in his hands. "Thank you. It's perfect." he said slipping it on over his head.

"Keep it with you always, Sam. It will help keep you safe." Ollivander said.

Dean seized the moment and before he knew what he was saying he blurted out all once, "Whataboutmywand!"

Sam turned his head with the most knowing grin.

"Pardon?" Ollivander asked.

"I . . . erm . . . would like to know more about my wand . . . please." Dean pieced together.

"Your wand is made of rowan, Dean, sought by many, won by few. A very protective wood and usually will best other wands in a duel. Defensive charms will be your forte, I think. Very strong spells indeed, especially with its dragon heartstring core. Your wand will bond strongly with you, take good care of it."

"Sure will." Dean said with the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice. He was sure that Sam had picked up on it. He wasn't so sure about the other two.


	6. 5: Show Me the Way

Chapter 5

Dumbledore and Severus had opened the door to the Headmaster's office directly after Dean's departure through the fireplace. Minerva turned to see the two of them enter as she was replacing the jar on the mantle with her own handful of floo powder.

"Minerva?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Fawkes gave Sam a feather, Albus!" she said with a well controlled look of satisfaction her eyes.

"Is that so?" Dumbledore pondered.

Severus' face was scrunched up trying to hide several emotions all at once behind his normally placid expression. He was obviously perplexed by this recent development. How can Fawkes give a feather to such a person? Then again, perhaps Sam was not a threat after all. But Dean. There was a different matter entirely.

Minerva nodded to the two of them as she tossed the floo powder into the fire and followed the brothers Ollivander's shop.

Without a word, Severus moved across the floor to the cabinets along the wall that contained several magical curios. He opened the doors and retrieved a large silver disc. His fingertips lightly caressed the bottom of the vessel and it floated as he guided it to the center of the room. Once the disc stopped, Dumbledore joined Severus by his side.

The Potions Master produced his wand and placed it to his temple. He closed his eyes and recalled all that he saw when he had been in Dean's head. After a few moments a silver wisp appeared at his temple and he pulled the wisp out of his head with the wand as if it were a piece of string unraveling from a sweater.

Once he had removed it, a simple flick of his wand caused the wisp to coil down and sink into the disc and swirl about in the cloudy contents like a drop of dye in water. He looked to Dumbledore with anticipation but remained silent. Albus nodded once to Severus and leaned forward into the disc.

Immediately the familiar sensation of falling began. He sank down, down into the shared memory. Dark liquid like smoke swirled around him as he descended. Everything became still and he found himself back in the side room off the Great Hall. He was surrounded by Hogwarts staff, along with his past self. Dean sat in one chair, Sam in the other. Severus' wand was out and with a flourish he cried out, " _Legilimens!"_

A cloudy mass appeared between Severus and Dean, and within the swirls he could see the memories projected as if on a movie screen. Child Dean. . . fire.. . . mother on the ceiling. . yellow eyes . . . . screams. . . . rescue by his father.

Memory Sam asked his brother, _"Why are we still even here?"_

Memory Dean pulled out an old well-wore leather book. _"This is why. This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession. Everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business."_

Dumbledore watched the memories flash by. So many different monsters, so many different times they fought for their lives.

The violence played throughout their lives. Sam's demon blood and abilities . . . the loss . . . the unwillingness to give up on family . . .

Their lives were indeed soaked in blood. They fought for what was right, even if it meant spilling blood. _Angels and Demons,_ he thought. _How very interesting. Not what we are accustom to, but they are on the side of good. . . for the most part._

When he felt he had seen enough, he willed the memory to end and he floated back up into his own mind.

Dumbledore emerged from the Pensive and straightened himself.

"Headmaster?" Severus queried softly.

"Yes, Severus?" he answered.

"Did you see?"

"Oh yes. Dean's memories paint quite the picture don't they?" he said as he returned the Pensive to its cabinet. "I also saw a world very different from our own, Severus. They come from a world of Muggles who know nothing more of our existence, accept what is written on the pages of a book."

Severus looked on into the gloom, listening to Dumbledore as he spoke.

"They may share some of the same creatures in their world as they do in ours, but they are very, very different in nature. From what I saw, their job is to exterminate the threats they come across and protect those who are in mortal danger. I cannot condemn the lives of two men for surviving in the violence of their own world. That is not to say I don't see the urgency in your warnings, Severus. I understand what they are capable of, but I also see the good in them."

Severus could not argue. If it was not for Dumbledore, he himself would be in Azkaban. After Voldemort had seemingly been killed no one trusted him because of his affiliation with the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself. Of course the Death Eaters didn't trust him either because he had then become "Dumbledore's Stooge". Dumbledore stood up in front of the Wizengamot and vouched for him. When no one else would, he protected him from a fate worse than death.

"Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, Headmaster?" he answered.

"You understand now why I have to trust that they are here to help protect the boy? As I recall, that is also why you are here, is it not?"

"Yes . . . of course." he admitted. A cold pang of grief hit him square in the chest as he recalled memories of his precious Lily Evans and what Voldemort did to her. He fought back the anguish welling up inside of him and choked it down.

Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it an ever-so-light squeeze.

"She would be so grateful, Severus."

"Don't you talk about her!" he snapped, unable to fight back his heartache for a brief moment. He gasped at his own words and wished instantly he could take them back. "Albus!" he cried with his eyes beginning to well. "I am –"

Suddenly the room was bathed in emerald green light as the fireplace connected to the Floo Network.

"It's alright, Severus. I know." Dumbledore said quickly and moved across the room to receive his guests.

A moment later Severus was by his side, his entire demeanor changed. He was once again the Potions Master of Hogwarts, and there was no trace of grief on his face.

WHOOSH went the flames and Sam appeared and he stumbled forward dizzily into the room.

"Woo . . ." Sam said shaking his head. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to that."

Another flare up and Dean entered the room also stumbling out over the hearth.

Once more the green flames shot up and Minerva gracefully glided out of the fireplace.

"Oh good, you didn't fall all over yourselves this time! Fast learners I see." she said. "Ah, Albus you're here."

"How did it go?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Quite well, Albus. Both of them found their wands and what marvelous pairings they are."

"Oh?" he said amusedly as the brothers found their way over to the conversation. "What are they?"

Sam and Dean pulled out their wands and showed them to Dumbledore.

"I got Rowan with dragon heartstring." Dean said.

"And I got a Willow wand with a Unicorn hair core." said Sam.

Dumbledore nodded approvingly at both of them and his eyes caught site of the charm around Sam's neck. "Ah! I see that Fawkes has given you a token of his friendship, Sam."

"Oh yeah! He's an amazing bird – phoenix!"

"That he is." Dumbledore agreed. "He has been with me for a very long, long time. As bonded as we are, I am very surprised to see him take to you so quickly."

"That's what McGonagall, erm, Minerva said."

"It's Minerva only behind closed doors, Sam. Professor McGonagall in front of the students." she said. "As both of you shall be Professor Winchester."

Dean noticeably winced at the mention of them being Professors. "Yeah, about that." he said. "What are we supposed to teach? I mean, we don't even know any spells yet."

"A very good question, Dean." said Dumbledore. "We shall place you into classes as Teaching Assistants for the time being. After the Christmas Holidays you will have your own classes that will be considered extra credit in the curriculum. In the meantime, you shall both have private lessons after school hours with the staff, and learn what you can during the classes. Is that agreeable?"

"Will we have access to the library or be given books to study from?" asked Sam.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Oh yes, Sam. We have extra books students have left behind over the years in many subjects. I will have them delivered to your rooms. I will arrange it with Madam Pince, the school Librarian, to allow you full access."

"Thanks." both brothers chimed.

Sam turned his head to catch a glimpse of the sleeping phoenix on his perch. Fawkes had his head buried in his wing and he was snoring slightly. Sam smiled to himself and was about to ask more about why he gave him the feather in the first place when something along the wall caught his attention. His eyes shot back to the area he had just been looking.

 _What did I just see?_ Sam thought as he visually scanned. _Something on the bookcase?_ He looked again, and finally he saw it. A dusty old witch's hat sat on top of the bookcase, patched and frayed from age.

"No way." Sam said under his breath and took a few absentminded steps toward it.

Dumbledore followed his gaze and saw what it was he was looking at and his blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "I see you've spotted the Sorting Hat."

"Yes. I mean, reading about it is one thing but seeing it is another. I've wondered . . ."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"What your houses would be?" said Dumbledore finishing Sam's thought.

"Well, yeah."

"Houses? Oh wait! I know this one!" Dean said jumping into the conversation.

Sam, Dumbledore, Severus, and Minerva all stared at him.

"What?" Dean asked. "I saw it on TV when I was flipping channels."

"Oh yeah," Sam said to Dumbledore. "They also made the books into movies."

"I see." said Dumbledore.

"Okay, don't tell me. I got this." Dean said closing his eyes trying to recall the details of the movies Charlie had insisted they watch. "Uuuuuuuuh, Gryffindor. Aaahhh . . . Slytherin . . . Ravenclaw, and – and . . . and . . .Jigglypuff."

"It's Hufflepuff, Dean. Jigglypuff is a Pokemon." Sam said

"What the hell is a Hufflepuff?"

"They're uh . . .well . . . they're particularly good finders."

"We'll find you a copy of _Hogwarts, A History_." said Dumbledore.

"I am also curious to see where you two would be placed. Let's see if he's up to the task _Accio Sorting Hat_!"." Minerva said with a wave of her wand, and the hat jumped off the bookshelf and flew into her hand.

"I _was_ sleeping, but what else am I here for?" said the hat groggily in her hand. "Aren't they a bit old to be sorted?"

"It is more of a curiosity than a sorting." said Minerva.

"Ah. Alright then," said the Sorting Hat. "Well let's get on with it, shall we hmm? Who do we have first?"

Dean looked at Sam. "Go ahead, eager beaver!" he said and waved him ahead.

Minerva nodded and placed the Sorting Hat on Sam's head. "This is Sam Winchester."

"Well, hello Sam. Let's see here. Hmm . . . very studious this one . . . very brave as well. I do sense a mysterious darkness within you but it has been kept at bay with the light of your altruism and sense of justice . . . Courageous beyond measure, yet an insatiable lust for knowledge. Both clever and logical I see. Where to put you? Right then! Ah, yes! RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted at last.

"Alright!" Sam cheered. "Your turn, Dean!" he said as Minerva lift the Sorting Hat from his head.

"Great." said Dean, clearly not as excited as Sam was. "If I end up a Jigglypuff, I'm gonna hurt you."

"Shut up, Dean. Be a good sport."

"Dean is it?" the hat asked as it was placed on his head. "Hmm, also a Winchester I see. You are courageous and bold. You carry with you a terrible burden." Dean rubbed his arm where the Mark of Cain lay hidden under his jacket sleeve. "Family and friends are highly important to you . . .Yes indeed. Confident . . . strong sense of adventure and daring, strong loyalty, yes, yes . . . and dedicated too! Also a determined and cunning young lad . . . hmm . . . difficult to place, this one. It'll have to be . . ."

Everyone in the room hung on the hat's next words, none more than Severus.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat shouted.

Minerva stepped forward and took the Sorting Hat off of Dean's head.

"To be honest," it said. "I almost placed you in Hufflepuff. You have a particular knack for finding trouble."


	7. 6: Bark At the Moon

Chapter 6

Dean looked at the Sorting Hat, then at his brother. "You were _this_ close to getting the biggest noogie of your life." he said to Sam holding up his thumb and forefinger with about a quarter inch between them.

Minerva placed the Sorting Hat on Dumbledore's desk. "I suggest we all head down to the Great Hall as lunch shall be served soon."

"Great!" Dean said. "Best news I've heard all day." He met with a range of looks. "I mean, you know, besides learning we're wizards and stuff."

"Good cover, Dean." Sam said patting him on the shoulder as he headed for the door, closely followed by the rest.

Sam and Dean were led through the winding corridors and staircases back to the Great Hall.

"Think I can get a map?" Dean asked Dumbledore as they walked.

"Of the castle? Yes of course. You will find one with the books and supplies in your room."

"Thanks." said Dean. "Oh, and uh . . . Thanks again for all your hospitality. I know I come off a little rough around the edges. But I want you to know I actually do appreciate all you're doing."

"As I understand it, you were not exactly sent here by your own will. Considering the circumstances, you are coping quite well."

"Well anyway, thanks." he said again.

Once more they entered the Great Hall and the delicious aromas of the lunch feast invaded their senses. As they walked toward the head table, students turned their heads and were looking at them.

Dean leaned in toward Sam. "Why do they keep staring at us like that?"

"I think it's our clothes." said Sam. "We are wearing Muggle clothes."

"Muggle clothes?"

"Yeah."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Most of these kids are from Wizarding Families. They don't dress the same as Muggles."

"Well how do they dress?"

"Like that." Sam said motioning to the head table where all the adults were already seated.

"So they dress like every day is Halloween?"

"That's their normal everyday wear, yes."

"Hmm." Dean said and craned his neck over the student's heads to see what kind of food was available. Dean's eyes lifted and he noticed a group of young Ravenclaw girls sitting together who were all staring at him.

"Hi, how's it going?" he said with a little wave. Immediately all the girls began to giggle into their hands and shyly turn their heads.

Feeling awkward Dean turned and made for the head table as quickly as he could without trying to attract even more attention to himself.

The brothers took their seats and Sam chuckled at Dean.

"I see you met your fan club." he joked.

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean said as he loaded up his plate.

"You know they're like 14 right?"

"You know what? I got a wand now, don't make me use it."

Sam laughed heartily. It felt good to laugh with his brother again. He had almost forgotten how it felt. The last time they had enough down time to actually enjoy themselves had been years ago when Bobby . . .

His heart and smile both dropped a bit at the thought, but he chose to keep grinning and think fondly on the memories instead of letting them sadden his mood. He joined in the feasting and both of them were soon stuffed to the brim.

Dumbledore had appeared at their sides almost immediately after they had pushed their plates away.

"If your appetites are sated, then Argus will show you to your rooms so you can settle in. You may wish to take an inventory of everything we have provided for you. You've each had a trunk made for you containing robes and necessities, and the books and supplies you will need are also there. There are also maps of the castle so you can find your way."

"Thank you." they both chimed.

That old man with the long hair stood along the wall holding his evil looking cat, Mrs. Norris, and waited for them. He was watching the students intently as if hoping for one, just one, to step out of line. Sam and Dean excused themselves from the table and Dumbledore's company and approached Argus Filch.

"Hey, how's it going?" Sam asked him.

"Look at them." he said without turning.

"What? The kids?" Dean asked.

"Troublemakers, every last one of them. What they need is discipline! You aren't one of those Professors that lets the children run amuck are you?"

"Oh, no of course not." Dean said giving Sam a sly wink. "In fact, some of the young whippersnappers could use some good old fashioned lashings, yeah?"

You could see the change in Filch's demeanor instantly. He turned toward Dean with a sadistic gleam in his eyes and a grin to match. "Oh yes, sir. Back in my day that was the going punishment. Glorious days those were. Weren't they, my sweet?" he said talking directly to the cat in his arms.

Sam leaned toward Dean. "Think you just made a new best friend."

"Yeah, right. This guys is seriously twisted. Ooooo." Dean said blowing out his breath.

Filch finally looked up from the quite conversation he was having with the cat, still grinning. "You'll make a mighty fine Professor, you." He then turned to Sam. "Don't you give them an inch, sir."

"Oh, no way. They'll take a mile, right?" Sam said a bit less convincing than Dean's charade. Even Dean looked at him sideways.

"Right this way, sirs." said Filch, taking no notice of Sam's terrible performance and began walking toward the main hall.

The brothers followed the caretaker to their rooms near the dormitories. The rooms were small yet comfortable and situated across a narrow hall from one another. Sam immediately threw open the trunk at the foot of the bed and started to rummage through it. Parchment, quills and ink, three sets of black robes, a cauldron, brass scales, and phials. He picked up one of the robes and threw it on over his clothes. He looked at himself in the full length mirror in the corner of the room. _Hmm, not bad,_ he thought to himself. As he mused he caught a glimpse of an absolute mountain of books sitting on a small desk by the door. He hurried over to them and started looking through the titles.

 _The Standard Book of Spells,_ by Miranda Goshawk grades 1-7. _A History of Magic,_ by Bathilda Bagshot. _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ , by Phyllida Spore. _Magical Drafts and Potions,_ by Arsenius Jigger. _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration,_ by Ermeric Switch. There were so many of them he gave up reading the titles after four stacks. The books were stacked so high he feared they would topple over were they afforded the slightest opportunity. They covered the desk completely, and there were even a few stacks on the floor.

"Well this ought to keep me busy." he said to himself.

Dean's room was also stacked high with books and supplies. He found the map of Hogwarts Castle that he had asked for and picked it up. No sooner had he moved the parchment when something growled ferociously at him. He jumped, dropping the map and knocking over several stacks of books. The book on the top of the stack the map had been laying on suddenly sprang to life and lunged at him and Dean gave a shriek.

Sam heard Dean's panicked yell and ran from his room and into Dean's, his new wand at the ready. He found Dean on top of his bed holding onto the bedpost as a grotesque and mean looking book snarled and snapped at him from the floor. Sam exhaled and began to laugh.

"I see you found _The Monster Book of Monsters._ "

"Get it away from me!" Dean shrieked.

"Seriously, dude? You're scared of a book? I mean we've gone up against some pretty scary stuff, but this? I really wish I had a camera right now."

"I am gonna hurt you so bad if you don't get this thing to heel!"

"Fine." Sam rolled his eyes. He raised his wand, aimed, and said, " _Flipendo!"_

The book flew backwards and hit the wall where it whined pitifully and hid under a chair.

Dean looked at his brother. 'Whoa! What spell was that?"

"Knockback Jinx. Standard Grade 2 Spell."

"Okay, the fact that you even know that proves you carry a Geek Card." he said and jumped down off the bed.

"Well that just means I have a head start."

"What other spells do you know?"

"Just the stuff that is in the books, movies, and games. There's _Lumos._ Which basically turns your wand into a flashlight. _Alohomora_ which unlocks doors. _Expelliarmus_ , is a disarming spell. . . um . . . Oh! _Wingardium Leviosa_ , makes stuff levitate. Then there is one that gets taught this year by Lupin -"

"Lupin, the werewolf guy right?" Dean asked.

"Yes. Hey, you remembered. Good for you."

"Well the name also kinda gives it away."

"There is that. But he is the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year and he teaches Harry how to make a Patronus."

"Do I?" said a voice from the open door.

Sam's eyes widened and the brothers turned to see Professor Remus Lupin, in the flesh, leaning against the doorframe.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude but I heard a commotion and I came to see if someone needed help." he said.

"Professor Lupin!" Sam said startled.

"Please, call me Remus." he said stepping forward to shake Sam's hand.

Sam did so heartily. "Hi. I'm Sam, this is my brother, Dean."

Remus and Dean also exchanged handshakes.

"I had actually passed this room but doubled back when I heard my name." said Remus.

They both felt incredibly discomfited all of a sudden. "About that, I – I'm sorry. I meant no disrespect." said Dean.

"That's quite alright." Remus said waving a hand dismissively. "I did however notice that you seem to know a bit more about me than most. Very few people in this world are privy to certain details of my life, and if it's all the same to you both, I would prefer it stay that way."

"Yes, of course." they both chimed.

"And for that I thank you. I was told by Dumbledore that you two were not from around here. And I don't just mean the American accents."

"Seems to me like we both have some secrets to keep." Dean said.

"Indeed." agreed Remus. "I'll tell you what. I'll keep yours if you keep mine."

"Deal!" said Sam.

"Dumbledore had also informed me that you will be spending a lot of time with me this year. As I am the Defense the Dark Arts Professor, you will be learning the bulk of your studies from me. You will also be studying Charms with Filius Flitwick, Herbology with Pomona Sprout, Transfiguration with Minerva McGonagall, and Potions with Severus Snape. "

"Oh, that guy." Dean said.

"Yes, I rather dislike the fellow myself, and as much as I hate to admit it, what he can teach you is most invaluable. He is the most accomplished Potions Master that I know of and that is giving him far more credit than I care to give him."

"So when do we start?" Dean asked much to the surprise of Sam as he was about to ask the same question.

"We can start whenever you'd like. I figured you might want to settle in first." said Remus.

"Well, we've got a hell of a long way to go to catch up in order to be of any use here, so . . ." Dean held his arms up. "The sooner the better."

"Quite right." Remus said to Dean and then turned to Sam. "You know more about our future than Sybil Trelawney does, which isn't saying a lot." he admitted. "And I know that you cannot give much away, but tell me," he leaned in closer to him. "Why would I teach a Patronus Charm to a third year?"


	8. 7: Fly Like An Eagle

Chapter 7

Sam felt Remus' inquisitive eyes on him, pressing him for information. He didn't see the harm in telling him why. _He_ _would eventually do it anyway right? Or is it because I tell him to do it that he does it? How does this alternate time line stuff work?_ Sam thought. "I really shouldn't say." he finally decided.

"In a word?" Remus asked.

"In a word . . . Dementors."

"Here? At the castle?" Remus' face became deadpan serious, all the playfulness had left him swiftly. He almost seemed angry. "The one on the train was bad enough, but here?"

"Yes. But I really can't say anything else. I wish I could." Sam said apologetically. "Dumbledore told me –"

"There is only one reason Dementors would come here!" Remus said enraged. "That means that Sirius Black will come looking for Harry!"

"See, this is why I didn't want to say anything." Sam said.

Remus took a deep breath and calmed himself. "No, it is my fault." he said, the kindness returning to his voice. "I should not have asked. Dumbledore was correct, foreknowledge is dangerous. I will teach Harry the Patronus Charm, but when the time is right."

"You're going to teach us too, right?" Dean asked.

"It is highly advanced magic. Even some of the more accomplished witches and wizards have trouble with creating one. Well, a corporeal one anyhow. It depends on how well you manage to recall your happiest memory under a Dementors influence. I will try to teach you regardless, I'm just saying that you should try not to feel too put off if you don't manage it."

"There ain't too many happy memories for us." said Dean.

The three of them froze and turned toward the door at the sound of hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor through the open door. They waited for whoever it was to pass by, but to their surprise, the footsteps belong to Minerva who popped her head in the door.

"Ah! There you are Sam!" she said slightly out of breath but cheerfully. "I have your first assignment."

"My – my assignment?" he repeated.

"Yes! We must get you both started right away! Oh, good, you've met Remus already. Hello, Remus."

"Good day, Minerva." he said with a slight nod and a smile.

"Now Dean, you will stay here with Remus and begin your lessons, Sam, you come with me. You will begin your training with Hagrid."

"Hagrid?"

"Yes, he is going to have his first class in Care of Magical Creatures on Monday. You seem to have the knack with animals so you will be his teaching assistant for the time being. "

"But what about my private lessons?" Sam said obviously disappointed. "I mean, yes. I would love to help Hagrid with his classes, but . . ."

"Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea to get acquainted with the hippogriffs Hagrid plans on showing to the class for their first lesson. And frankly, I agree with him, Sam. Frightfully temperamental, those hippogriffs."

Sam recalled how Hagrid's first class went in the book. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea after all to have them get used to him.

"You're right. I do need to spend some time with them. I read the . . ." Sam stopped himself. "The _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._ " he lied.

"Well." Minerva said. "Let's get you down to Hagrid shall we?"

"Yeah, sure. See you guys later." he said to Remus and his brother.

The snow that had been there the night before had melted away. It was still a bit too early for snow in September, but Sam thought it had to do with them being sent here, some kind of atmospheric disturbance or something. Today was a beautiful day, chilly but dry, with the warm sun cutting through the light breeze.

Minerva led Sam across the grounds toward the edge of the forest where in the distance he could see a small cottage. All around it were gardens overflowing with good sized pumpkins and a few that given the time to grow would surely be a monstrous size.

As they approached the cottage, a giant black boarhound raised its head from its slumber at the foot of the stoop. It gave a couple of loud, deep barks to alert its Master that company was coming.

The door to the cottage swung open, and a giant of a man came out into the open air.

"Oi! Quiet down, Fang! Wha' yeh barkin' fer?" Hagrid looked up and saw Sam and Minerva headed toward him. "Ah! 'Ello Professors! Didn' know yeh were comin' ter see me."

"Hello, Hagrid. Yes, I wanted to introduce you to Sam Winchester, he will be assisting you with a helping hand during your classes." said Minerva.

Hagrid looked confused for a moment and then almost hurt.

"Don' Dumbledore think I can handle it by me'self?" the giant man asked.

Understanding where Hagrid was coming from, Minerva comforted him. "Oh, it's not that, Hagrid. Sam and his brother are last minute additions to the staff and as such they have nowhere to be until after the break when they will have their own classes. Sam seems to have a way with animals, so we thought it best to put him with you. If that's alright with you?" she added.

"A way with animals yeh say?" His mood changed to the point where his dark eyes nearly sparkled with delight. With one tremendous step forward, Hagrid scooped Sam up in one mighty arm and clenched him to his side in a half hug and shook him. "Well! Why didn' yeh say so! Pleased teh meet yeh, Sam!"

Sam's breath left him and he felt like a squeaky toy beset upon by a playful puppy. A great, big, massive puppy.

"Nice to meet you, big guy." was all he managed before gasping for air.

"There! See now!" Minerva said. "You two will get along just fine, I think!"

"Don' worry a bit, Professor, he'll make a fine helper!" he said and clapped a colossal hand on Sam's back knocking the wind out of him for the second time.

"I'll leave you two to it." Minerva said and turned toward the castle.

Hagrid turned to Sam. "So, yeh got a way wit' animals, do yeh?"

"Apparently so." said Sam, still recovering. "At least with Phoenixes."

Hagrid lifted his gigantic bushy eyebrows. "Yeah? How so?"

Sam reached into his robes and pulled out the phoenix feather necklace he was wearing and showed it to Hagrid.

Hagrid instantly gasped. "That's mi'ghty special, that is! Did yeh git it from Fawkes?"

"Yeah, I met him earlier today. Beautiful bird. Very friendly too."

"An' he gave it to yeh jus' like that, eh?"

"Yes he did."

"Thas' good enough fer me!" Hagrid said taking off around the side of his hut. Sam didn't know if he should follow or not, so he stood there still a bit winded. Hagrid poked his head around the corner. "Well, c'mon then! I'll introduce yeh to the hippogriffs!"

Sam made quick work of catching up to him and Hagrid led him to the edge of the forest. Just inside the foliage he could see a wooden pen holding a few large winged creatures. They were tall, feathered, and had the front legs, wings, and head of a giant eagle and the body, hind legs, and tail of a horse. They were all gathered in the pen drinking out of a trough.

Hagrid sauntered up to the pen and waited for Sam to catch up. "Beau'iful ain't they!" he said. Sam finally took a good look at them. They were terrifying actually. Sam had dealt with his fair share of monsters, but this was a different matter. Yet they were extremely majestic as well. He could see why Hagrid loved them so. The more he watched them strut around the pen, the more he appreciated them and the opportunity to see them up close.

"Yeah, they are." Sam said in earnest.

"Now, the thin' with Hippogriffs is, they're very proud creatures. Insult one, 'n it could be the last thin' yeh do!"

Sam swallowed hard. He remembered this part. What it did . . . would do, to Malfoy. "That's what I've heard." he said cooly. "You gotta bow, right?"

Hagrid seemed impressed. "Yeh know yer stuff, I'll give yeh that." With that he opened the pen. "Let's see how they like yeh!"

Sam breathed out. _Just keep cool,_ he thought. _Just do what he tells you to do and it should be fine. I hope._

"Now," Hagrid started. "Yeh gotta bow, like yeh said. But yeh gotta keep eye contact. Don' show 'em any fear! If he don' bow back, yeh best be backin' off quick-like. Got it?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." said Sam feeling uneasy.

Sam exhaled and approached one of the hippogriffs. Several of them turned his way, more attention than he wanted from them all at once. They eyed him carefully and bobbed their heads. Sam cleared his throat. "Good afternoon to you all." he said and bowed low and properly held eye contact as he was told. With a click of steely talons on the hard ground, he now had the attention of every last one of them and they had all come to see the human.

"Easy, now! Be prepared teh move." Hagrid warned. Sam held his position, a bead of sweat appearing at his temple. He waited. He waited for some sign that he wasn't about to become minced meat to a bunch of pissed off mythical creatures.

To his relief, one by one each of the hippogriffs began to bow to Sam in turn. _Oh, thank goodness!_ he thought.

"Let them stand firs'." Hagrid said.

They all straightened themselves and waited for Sam to do the same. For a moment he was frozen on the spot, but he willed himself to stand.

"Very good, Sam. Well done!" Hagrid said. "I reckon yeh can feed 'em now."


	9. 8: Pinball Wizard

Chapter 8

Remus and Dean had adjourned to the Professor's classroom after Sam had left their company. Remus had set up a number of books and weird looking objects from the cabinets along a long table.

"Now, Dean," Remus began, "Since this is going to be an accelerated course, I must have your full attention and participation."

"I will learn whatever it is you have to teach me, Obi-Wan." Dean said

"Pardon?"

"Ah, it's a Star . . . never mind. Yes! You have my undivided."

"Good. Now we'll start with the Unforgivable Curses. These curses are forbidden by the Ministry of Magic for a number of reasons, but mostly because to inflict them on another person, Muggle or Wizard alike, is considered inhumane."

"Wait, wait. I know this!" Dean said trying to remember. "There's the one that you can, like, make a zombie outta someone and they do what you want them to do."

Remus nodded, "The Imperius Curse, yes."

"The one that's a torture thing."

"The Cruciatus Curse."

"And the one that kills." Dean said darkly.

"Aptly named the Killing Curse. I am glad that you are aware of these curses, and you should know them because you must know that Dark Witches or Wizards have no issues using these Unforgivable Curses, and _will_ given the chance."

"So what if someone uses them on me? What can I do?"

"Well," said Remus. "The Imperius Curse can be fought off if you are strong willed and resist it. It takes some practice, but it can be overcome. The Cruciatus Curse can and will drive one to madness from the pain. It has happened to the parents of one of the students here. Poor boy. It is much, much harder to resist, but of course that all depends on one's tolerance for pain."

"I can take a beating. Lemme tell ya." Dean said.

"As for the Killing Curse, well, there is only one person who has ever survived it, and he is the boy you were sent here to protect."

Dean thought on this and nodded. "So basically, I'm screwed on that one?"

"Let's hope it never comes down to that."

"Yup!" Dean said immediately. "Okay, so what's next?"

"We will go over the Knockback Jinx, the Wand-Lighting Charm, Disarming Spell, Smokescreen Spell, hmm . . . and let's say Periculum."

"Alright."

"You will learn about Dark Creatures during the regular classes. But for now, I will take you through the full seven year curriculum a little at a time. First things first!" Remus pulled from a stack of papers an old newspaper. The paper was yellowed and torn but the headline read:

AURORS SEND DEATHEATERS TO AZKABAN!

Underneath was a moving picture of several masked individuals in black robes, struggling against some pretty tough-looking wizards who had put them in heavy shackles.

"These are Deatheaters, Dean. Servants of You-Know-Who." he said showing him the paper. "And there, on their left arms." he pointed. "That tattoo signifies that they are a Deatheater and devoted to him. It is called the Dark Mark. These are the people that would most likely try to use those Unforgivable Curses on you."

"I have a pretty decent quick draw." Dean boasted.

"I hope for your sake you are right, Dean. Most of those Deatheaters were caught but most wriggled out of prosecution by denouncing their allegiance to him or hiding like the cowards they are."

"But they are still out there, right?"

"Right you are. So if you were to spot one of these on someone's arm, you'd best stay clear of them."

"Gotcha. What's next?"

"Let's try an easy spell. Raise your wand, Dean."

Dean reached into his inner jacket pocket and retrieved it. "Okay."

"Now trace a loop in the air with it, like this." he demonstrated by tracing his own wand like a cursive "e".

Dean mimicked the movement.

"Good! And once more." Remus nodded and smiled as Dean repeated the motion. "Perfect. Now, you're going to do the same thing again, but this time you are going to say, ' _Lumos'!"_

"Alright." Dean cleared his throat. He began to make his loop and said, " _Lumos!''_ at the crest.

The tip of his wand glowed with a bright white light. Dean smiled and laughed. "I did it!" he hooted joyfully before he knew what he was doing.

"Well done, Dean!" Remus said and clapped him on the back. Now, to turn it off, you must take your wand and with this motion," he demonstrated, "like you would draw a wave. Over like this, and then curve back."

Again, Dean mimicked the motion.

"Very good, you will make this motion and say ' _Nox'_."

Dean drew a wave in the air and said, " _Nox!_ " and the wand extinguished itself.

"You are a quick learner, Dean. Nicely done!" Remus said.

"Thank you. I thought you just point and shoot, turns out its more involved."

"When you are more advanced with your skills the motions will not matter as much as your wand will remember them for you. The more you use the spell, the more the wand will anticipate your needs. Eventually, you will be able to do spells without speaking at all."

"So practice, practice, practice. Gotcha."

"That's right. Eventually it will all come as second nature to you. You'll find they almost casts themselves. Now! That spell will light the immediate area that you're in. If you find yourself in a cave, or out in the middle of the woods and you need to light a bigger area, you will need to use the spell in its extreme version, _Lumos Maxima!_ "

" _Lumos Maxima_?"

"Correct! Now, the movement is different for this one, so you'll have to remember which is which. You're going to flick your wand like this."

Remus showed, Dean imitated.

"Then draw your wand back, like so, and then flick it again."

"Flick, draw it back, flick." Dean said.

"Very good. Now, Let's see." Remus nodded and stood back.

"Okay." Dean gripped his wand and mimed the movement a couple more times. " _Lumos Maxima!"_ he said, and immediately the entire room lit up. "WHOA!" Dean cried and shielded his eyes from the dwarf star's amount of light that erupted from the tip of his wand.

Even Remus strained against the light. "Fantastic! You can extinguish it now!"

Dean drew a wave in the air and shouted, " _NOX!_ "

The light shut off and it almost seemed to take a few seconds for the room to darken once more.

"That . . . was _mighty_ impressive, Dean." Remus said and began to clap.

Dean stood there in shock. "How the hell did I do that?"

"You have some strong Magical abilities, Dean, both you and your brother. The potential here is almost unprecedented. You must come from a Wizarding Family."

"Well, we're all hunters in our family. There's my brother and I, our father, our mother, our Grandparents on her side and some of the cousins too. Our Grandfather on my dad's side was a Man of Letters and that makes Sam and I Legacies. . . we . . ." Dean realized that he had just described ever so much more than one generation of magic users on both sides of the family.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "You have protested, but I think you know now that you two were meant to be wizards. I have no doubt in my mind that you and Sam will excel at magic and quickly."

Dean stood there a moment and thought. "Then let's keep going."


	10. 9: Tarot Woman

Chapter 9

The next morning the school had come alive with the sound of students and teachers busying themselves in preparation for the first day of the term. The Great Hall was aflutter with students eating their breakfasts and comparing their class schedules as they were handed out.

Sam and Dean, pressed and dressed in their new robes, entered to see the hustle and bustle. Passing the house tables on the way to their own seats, they came across a group of Slytherins laughing and joking. They were about ten feet ahead of them but Dean stopped Sam in his tracks when he saw their attention had turned from themselves to across the room. One of them had spotted Harry Potter had also entered the room and abruptly began to swoon and gave out a dramatic wail followed by a bunch of laughter.

Dean turned to Sam. "What's the blonde kid's name again?"

"Draco Malfoy." Sam answered.

"We're teachers now, right?"

Sam looked confused, "Well, yeah. But I don't see w -."

Suddenly Dean shouted, "Hey! Malfoy!"

The whole group of them startled, and the look on Draco's face changed to one of panic.

"Knock it off!" he said approaching the group. Then he pointed his finger at each one of them in turn in a slow and deliberate arc. "All of you! Ten points from Slytherin! Now sit down and eat your breakfast."

The Slytherins begrudgingly broke their group apart and sat down at their table. Dean looked up and saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione staring at him from across the room. It was if they couldn't believe their eyes. Harry smiled and gave a small nod of thanks and he, Ron, and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table.

Sam walked up to Dean and in a hushed voice he said, "Dude, you have no idea how much I've wanted to do that since '97."

"Why? What's that?"

"The year the first book came out."

"Seriously. Geek Card. Let's eat."

Sausages, bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes, beans, oatcakes, toast, and much more covered the tables. Sam tried something called Bubble and Squeak for the first time with a fried egg on top of it. Professor Sprout had explained that it was potatoes, cabbage, Brussels sprouts, carrots, and peas hashed, formed into patty, and shallow fried. Dean ended up making himself a bacon and sausage sandwich between two fluffy breakfast rolls.

After breakfast was over, Minerva approached Sam and Dean with pieces of parchment in her hand.

"Good morning, Professors." she said cheerfully.

"Morning." said Dean.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall." Sam said smiling.

"I have for you your classroom assignments. Dean, you have a choice. You can sit in on Divination with Professor Trelawney, or Muggle Studies with Professor Burbage."

Dean looked at Sam, silently asking him which one he should subject himself too.

Sam leaned in closer to Dean and whispered in his ear. "Do you want loony or boring?"

"I'll take Divination I guess." said Dean.

"Alright, here you go." Minerva said and handed him one of the slips of parchment. "And Sam, you'll be down at Hagrid's for Care of Magical Creatures. You know where that is, of course."

"Yes, thank you."

"First hour classes start in about 20 minutes so I suggest you two get a move on. Sam, your class doesn't start for an hour and a half but you should probably get their early to help Hagrid get ready for the class. I'm sure he's a bundle of nerves."

"No problem."

Minerva grasped both of them by a shoulder. "You two will be just fine." she said and sauntered off to speak with Dumbledore.

Dean shoved the rest of his eggs into his mouth and grabbed a piece of buttered toast. He stood and a fair few crumbs rolled off the front of his robes and onto Sam's shoulder.

"Dude!" Sam protested.

Dean responded by taking a bite of his toast and winked at him before taking off with his parchment in hand.

Sam brushed off his shoulder and chuckled to himself. This place was finally starting to rub off on Dean and it was nice to actually see him enjoy himself. It was nice to not be at each other's throats constantly for what seemed like petty trifles. He'd almost forgotten the argument they were having before they were sent here. What had that _really been about, anyway? Who knows? But right now, it didn't matter anymore. Being here, away from their every day, psychotic, fight for their lives, lives, it felt like a blessing in disguise._

Sam also grabbed a piece of toast and then headed down to Hagrid's hut.

Ten minutes later, Dean had found the right floor but was now pacing back and forth down the hallway, the map of Hogwarts in one hand and his parchment with the class information on the other looking for the entrance to the Divination Tower. He found a spiral staircase and began to climb it until it had made him a bit dizzy. He found a silver ladder leading up through the ceiling.

"This must be it." he said to himself. He shoved the parchment and map into his robe's pocket and climbed.

About halfway up the ladder he smelled a heavy aroma of incense wafting down from above. It invaded his nostrils and forced a gale force sneeze. Suddenly, a frizzy haired woman with heavy round glasses and large magnified eyes behind them peered over the edge at him.

"Ah!" Dean said surprised by her sudden appearance. "Hi, I'm Dean, erm, Professor Winchester." he choked on the words.

"I knew you would come. Please, come inside." she said airily.

Dean climbed up through the opening and was met with an overly-warm, smoky room which was crammed full of students all sitting in armchairs or on little froufrou tuffets.

"Would you be so kind as to pull up the ladder and close the trap door?" said Professor Trelawney in a floaty, far-away voice.

Dean struggled with the ladder and had just closed the hatch when she tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and found her magnified owl eyes staring intently at him. "On second thought, there are some students have gotten lost and should be arriving in a few moments. Please lower the ladder for them when they arrive."

Dean blinked at her.

"There's a good lad!" she said patting his shoulder and turned toward her own chair and had a seat.

Dean opened the hatch again and immediately saw three faces look up at him from their own parchments.

"After you." said the redheaded boy to the dark-haired boy.

The dark-haired boy began climbing the ladder. Dean hadn't paid attention at first, but when this boy's head popped through the hatchway, he saw the lightning shaped scar on his forehead and realized that it was Harry himself.

Dean waited for Ron and Hermione to pull themselves up into the tower before pulling up the ladder and again shutting the hatch.

As soon as all was quiet and the three late-comers had taken their seats, Trelawney had fully taken advantage of the fact they had not seen her in her chair.

"Welcome," she said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

Both Dean and several students in the group rolled their eyes at the dramatic statement.

"Welcome to Divination," she said from the comfort of her wing backed chair. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

Dean leaned against the back wall next to a bunch of shelves covered top to bottom with tea cups and saucers and teapots, and watched the circus act unfold before him. He recalled Sam's question. _Do you want loony or boring? He wasn't kidding about the loony part._

"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," said Trelawney. "It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy," she said suddenly to a nervous boy with front teeth too big for his mouth, who now appeared very frightened.

"Is your grandmother well?"

"I think so," said the boy, shaking like a leaf.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," said Professor Trelawney. She let a moment of dramatic pause float by before continuing. "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she quickly assaulted a pretty Indian girl, "beware a red-haired man."

She responded by looking at Harry's red-headed friend and uncomfortably scooted away from him.

"In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball - if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."

Dean found the room to be a bit warm and hard to breathe in. He grabbed his robes and fanned the fabric rhythmically trying to aerate them with no luck.

Trelawney was suddenly at his side. "I wonder dear, if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"

Dean looked over the shelves next to him and located the teapot. He inched his way toward it, trying not to trip over the students who were packed in like sardines. He grabbed the teapot and put it into Trelawney's hands.

"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally," she looked deeply at him. "You will have most, but not all of your questions answered on Halloween."

Dean could feel everybody's eyes on him as if he were under a microscope. Quite a few of the students were hanging on the edge of their poufy tuffets as if looking for his approval of Trelawney's prediction.

"That's . . . just swell." was all he could muster.

After that exchange, Trelawney had instructed the class to split into pairs and enjoy the tea they were about to be served. When their tea was gone they were to take turns deciphering the tea leaves using their books as reference.

Trelawney had Dean running from table to table pouring tea for the students. The nervous boy broke a teacup and Dean was asked to clean up the shards. It was only once the students were examining their empty teacups that Dean was able to sit, relax, and drink a cup of tea on Trelawney's insistence.

"Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!" Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom.

A few minutes later Dean watched as Trelawney suddenly crossed the floor and scooped up Harry's teacup from Ron's hands. "Let me see that, my dear." she said.

She slowly spun the cup in her hands and read it out loud for the whole class to hear. "The falcon...my dear, you have a deadly enemy. . . The club . . . an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup. . . The skull . . .danger in your path, my dear."

She abruptly shrieked and retreated to her chair to sit down. "My dear! You have. . . . the Grim!"

With that there were several gasps from students. Harry, himself was unaffected by the news.

"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harry hadn't understood. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen - the worst omen - of death!"

Everyone rushed from their seats and piled around Trelawney to get a glimpse of this Grim in Harry's cup. Even Dean looked over a few of their heads hoping to see something. He had only just missed hearing Harry say something to the point of everyone needed to stop telling him he was going to die over everyone else's whispers.

Trelawney quietly excused the students from the lesson for the day. They packed their bags and descended the silvery ladder on a quest to find their next class room.

Once they were gone and it was just Dean and Trelawney left, she busied herself cleaning up the teacups from the tables.

"Is there anything else you would like me to do before I go?" Dean asked.

There was a clinking of china and Sybil stood straight up. Without turning, she said lowly, "Bring me your cup."

It was more of an order than a request. Dean grabbed his cup and brought it to her. She scooped it up and began to turn it counter-clockwise.

"A wine glass, oh my dear you must remember to act with integrity in difficult situations." she continued to peer into the cup. "Hhmm . . . scissors. To make something new, you must get rid of something old. Ah! An envelope, which means you'll be receiving news from far away!"

"Not likely." Dean scoffed.

"My dear. You must not take Tasseography so lightly. It is quite difficult and extremely accurate."

"Look, Sybil is it?" he asked.

She nodded so lively her shawl slip off her shoulder. "Y-yes, it is." she said, wildly grabbing for the end of the shawl failing several times. She managed to grab it and threw it over her shoulder again. She seemed to be quite nervous around him.

"I would _absolutely love to know what's in my future." Dean started. "But this method . . . it's just not for me."_

He turned and made for the silver ladder, leaving Sybil pouting with a quivering lip. He had just put his feet on the rungs when she spoke again. "Halloween!" she called after him. "You'll get your answers then!"

"Thank you, Sybil." he said not really paying attention and began to descend. Her voice changed as he lifted the hatch to close behind him.

"The Dark Lord is coming. . ."


	11. 10: Wind of Change

Chapter 10

Sam spent an hour with Minerva learning the basics of transfiguration. She taught him _Vera Verto_ and successfully turned a guinea pig into a goblet, which he argued was most impractical. Minerva told him that next time he was lost in the woods without a drinking vessel next to a babbling brook he would remember this lesson and be thankful.

Minerva moved on to _Avifors_ and taught him how to turn a target into a bird. She told him it could be most useful in a duel. "A winged creature cannot hold a wand, Sam." she told him. He couldn't argue with that and managed to turn a chair into a flamingo.

He sat through the Transfiguration class getting to see Minerva become a cat and attempt to amaze the students by transforming back into human. She claimed it worked every time, yet they seemed as though it was tedious. The students explained that Trelawney had told Harry he was going to die.

"I see." said Minerva. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues -" she paused to collect herself. "The truth of the matter is that Professor Winchester here knows more about the future than she does."

There were a few scattered laughs around the classroom. She looked at Harry over the rim of her spectacles. "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

During lunch Dean and Sam discussed their experiences in class. Dean recounted all the weirdness of Divination including Sybill's crazy predictions.

"Did Neville break the teacups?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, he did."

"Did she tell Lavender Brown that the thing she was dreading would happen in October?"

Dean thought about it a moment. "No. She didn't."

"Huh." Sam mulled that over.

"No she told me that I would get most but not _all_ the answers I seek on Halloween."

"That never happened in the book. When did she tell give you her 'prediction'?"

"She was walking around the room telling everybody what was going to happen in the semester and throwing in a prediction in here and there, she asked me to pass her a silver teapot, so I did, and –"

"She asked _you_ to pass her the teapot?" Sam interrupted.

"Yeah, why?"

"In the book, she asks Lavender Brown to pass her the teapot. That's when she told her the thing she had been dreading would happen."

"What kinda name is Lavender Brown, anyway? It's just two colors. Pfft! So I got her prediction then? Too bad she won't get the answers she's seeking on Halloween."

"Her prediction wasn't for Halloween though. It was mid October."

"Sooo . . . what does that mean?"

"It means . . . that she either gave you 'your own personal reading' cause you happened to be in front of her at the time, or she is pulling stuff out of her . . ." Sam censored himself as a couple of students walked by the head table.

"Is she a fraud or not?" Dean asked.

"She is the Granddaughter of an infamous Seer named Cassandra Trelawney. She does have the Gift, she's the one who made the prediction about Harry and Volde . . . You-Know-Who."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh my God, _really_? Did you just say that?"

Sam paused, slightly annoyed. "When in Rome." he said. "It's not really clear whether or not she fakes it. To be honest, the predictions she makes actually do ring kinda true in the end. The prediction she made for Lavender pans out that her rabbit back at home died. And Harry really does see a big black dog that could be easily mistaken for an actual Grim. So my guess is that she _can_ see things but they aren't exactly as she says they are."

Dean pondered over everything Sam had said. "Hmm. I guess we'll just have to wait until Halloween to see if anything happens."

Sam looked at his watch. "Ooh! I gotta get down to Hagrid's." He took one last bite of his roast and washed it down with the dregs of pumpkin juice still left in his glass.

"Yeah, me too. Minerva wants me to have a private lesson in Potions with that Severus guy."

Sam winced. "Eugh. Have fun with that. You know he's not really a bad guy right?" he added.

"Yeah, yeah. I saw the movie. He kinda does look like Alan Rickman doesn't he?"

"A little bit yeah. More like Paul McGann." said Sam and Dean nodded in agreeance. "Seriously though. He is a bit hostile at times but he really does mean to do the right thing. Even if he –"

"I get it Sam. Run along and go play with your bird-ponies."

Sam laughed. "Alright, I'll see you later."

Sam had arrived ten minutes later at the hut to find Hagrid pacing about in back next to the pumpkin patch.

"Ah, Sam! There yeh are!" he was extremely pleased to see him. "Are yeh ready fer the class t'day?"

"Yeah, I think so." he said with a half smile.

"That's the spirit!" Hagrid said and clapped him on the back.

Sam saw the hand coming his way and braced himself. He took the impact like a champ and only grimaced a bit. He did his best to smile and laugh it off.

"So, let's go out an' feed 'em now so's they don't feel the need to peck at the children." Hagrid said as if it was a normal topic of conversation.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, probably a good idea."

They both walked out to the forest's edge with a basket full of freshly hunted rabbits. Hagrid had given Sam a smock to wear which covered him from chin to toe and wrapped around him twice.

They entered the pen and bowed in unison to the group of hippogriffs. They came bounding over to the two of them and were obviously more concerned with the tender morsels in the basket than a proper greeting. They all hastily bowed back and began to crowd them and stamp at the ground impatiently.

"Don't worry guys, there's plenty for everyone." Sam said nervously. He reached into the basket and picked up one of the rabbits. He tossed it upwards and a few of the hippogriffs tried to pluck it out of the air. One of them succeeded and the others squawked in protest. He continued to toss them till all the rabbits were gone and everyone was well fed.

Sam unrolled himself from the smock and hung it over the fence. Hagrid watched in delight.

"Yeh know, yeh really do got a way wit' them animals." he said proudly. "I'm sorry if I made yeh feel like I didn' want yeh around."

"Oh, no!" Sam said quickly. "It's okay. This is your show, Hagrid. I'm just here to help."

"An' lemme tell yeh, jus' between you and me, I'm glad yeh're here." he said. "I'm nervous about the class. I jus' want ev'rythin ter go smoothly, ya know."

"Well whatever you need, I'm here for you." Sam said reassuringly.

"It's about that time! You stay here an' round up the hippogriffs an' get the collars on 'em like I show'd yeh. I'm gonna go wait fer the kids at the hut."

"I'll have them ready when you get back. No problem"

"Thanks, Sam!" Hagrid said and scooped him up in a bear hug.

When he released Sam he turned and confidently strolled away toward his hut. Sam was glad he was able to lift his spirits and give him that little extra confidence. He stretched and heard his back pop in several places. "Eugh!" he groaned.

He then turned his attention to the creatures who were looking curiously at him.

"Oh, I'm fine." he said to them. "Now if I may ask your permission, I need to put on your collars on like we practiced before." he said and bowed lowly invoking a few more pops from his back.

It took some doing, but he was able to collar all of the hippogriffs within fifteen minutes, so when Hagrid returned with his class, he was able to lead them outside the pen with the whole lot of them attached to chains which he tied to the fence. Sam thought he looked pretty impressive leading a dozen large creatures toward the class. Maybe even impressive enough to look like a real professional in front of the kids.

Hagrid was teaching the class how to open their _Monster Book of Monsters_ to much ridicule from the Slytherin students standing in the back of the group.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid gestured at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they? So, if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer..."

None of the students seemed to inclined to do so. Understandably so. Harry, Ron, and Hermione seemed to be the bravest and took a few careful steps closer.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do.  
Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Right - who wants ter go first?"

Harry volunteered of course. Hagrid asked Sam to untie the grey one named Buckbeak and bring him forward. Sam expertly guided the winged creature to the group and then removed his collar.

"Thanks, Sam . . . er, Professor Winchester. Easy now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink...Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."

Harry bowed, Buckbeak hesitated, and Hagrid cautioned Harry. Even though Sam was witnessing everything he knew he had already read years before, he still held his breath as if it was not already predestined to happen.

It was such a weird feeling to Sam. Knowing everything that was going to happen before it happened. Was this how real psychics felt all the time, he thought? Sure enough, Buckbeak finally bowed. Hagrid invited him to pet Buckbeak, and as he did there was light applause from the class.

 _This is the weirdest feeling of déjà vu._ Sam thought. He let his mind wonder a bit trying not to get too ahead of himself recalling what came next. Before he knew it, Harry was on Buckbeak's back and flying around the tops of the forest trees. He watched the hippogriff in flight and truly appreciated the creature for its strength and beauty. He finally saw what Hagrid saw when he looked at them. Perhaps he was a good Magical Creatures assistant after all.

Buckbeak came in for a landing and the lesson continued. The students were paired with hippogriffs and Sam found himself instructing a few students on his own while Hagrid did the same. He looked up from his group of Gryffindor students in time to overhear Draco Malfoy talking loud enough so everyone could hear his pompous and incredulous voice.

"This is very easy." Malfoy said. "I knew it must have been if Potter could do it."

Sam realized in a flash that this was the moment. This is the moment Malfoy would get hurt. By his own doing, this little brat would do himself a grave injury that would eventually lead to Buckbeak's execution.

"I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" Malfoy said to the hippogriff. "Are you, you great –"

Sam couldn't help himself. "You'd better believe they are, Malfoy." he interrupted and prevented Draco from continuing his sentence that would have ended in blood. He walked over to him and looked him in the eyes. "I know you what you were about to say. And if you know what's good for you, the next time there is a lesson you should pay attention when a Professor tells you that insulting a creature like a hippogriff could be the last thing you do. If you had said what you were going to say, he would have sliced you open like a sack of potatoes."

Sam turned and began walking back to his group of students he was working with before.

"This place really _has_ gone to the dogs." Draco muttered under his breath. "Wait till my father hears that they've gone and hired Americans." he said to Crabbe and Goyle who snickered to themselves.

Sam knew he shouldn't be surprised by anything Malfoy said, but that one stung a little bit. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned.

"Malfoy!" Sam said authoritatively making Draco jump. "Come here!"

Everyone in the class stopped what they were doing and watched as Draco was reprimanded in front of the whole class. Draco shuffled his feet and slowly made his way over to Sam.

"You've just earned yourself detention." Sam said, secretly loving the fact he was getting to do this. "And ten more points from Slytherin. Maybe you'll think twice about your behavior. Especially after you single handedly cost your house 20 points today."

Pansy Parkinson's jaw dropped and she gasped. She was obviously not happy about this news.

"Er . . ." Hagrid said trying to cut the tension. "I think we can stop there fer the day. Hope ya all enjoy'd yer firs' lesson!"

The students all made for the castle, Draco giving Sam the stink eye over his shoulder. Sam responded in kind by making the, 'I'm watching you' gesture by pointing at his eyes then at him. He hadn't noticed that Harry, Ron and Hermione had stayed behind a moment and approached him.

"Er, Professor?" Harry said to Sam.

It took him a bit by surprise. "Yes, Harry?"

"I . . . just wanted to thank you." he said.

"For what?"

"For this morning. The other Professor Winchester, he stopped them from making fun of me."

"Hey," Sam said. "If we catch any students being jerks we're gonna call them out on it."

"Well, I just wanted to say thanks."

"You're welcome, Harry. But the one you ought to be thanking is Hagrid for the awesome lesson, right?"

"It was great!" Ron said.

"Well, go let him know. He could use the encouragement. I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Yeah." Harry agreed with a smile and the three of them trotted over to Hagrid.


	12. 11: Hard to Say I'm Sorry

**Chapter 11**

Dean left the Great Hall with Minerva right after lunch. She led him down into the dungeons below one of the Viaduct Towers to Severus' classroom. While they descended the spiral stairs to the dungeons, Minerva asked Dean what he thought of the school so far.

"You mean besides it being impossible to find where you're going?" he said with a goofy smile, his voice echoing downward into the darkness.

She chortled a bit. "Yes, well it does take some getting used to."

"Well, to be honest, I never really got the chance to get used to a school. I mean, Sam went to college for a while before we started hunting together, but this is kind of a new experience for me."

"What do you mean?" Minerva inquired.

"Well, Sam and I, we . . . we never really stayed in one place very long growing up. Our Dad would put us into schools whenever we'd breeze into a town where there was a job. And by job, I mean some kinda monster was killing people and he would hunt it down. He'd dump us at the nearest school, we'd live in the cheapest motel, we'd eat junk food and watch TV, that was our lives."

"How dreadful!" Minerva said, hardly believing her ears.

"So as far as schools go, this one's pretty nice." Dean said being completely honest.

"Thank you for saying so, Dean.

"If Bobby could see us now." he laughed, shaking his head.

"Bobby?" she asked.

Dean tried to think of the best way to describe Bobby to her. "Bobby was a friend. More of a surrogate father, really. He was a hunter, like us. After our dad passed, Bobby was always there. I can't tell you how many times he saved our bacon over the years. He was an old, surly, beer drinking, swearin' son of a gun. Used to call us 'idgits' when we'd screw things up."

"Gracious!" Minerva exclaimed.

"Yeah, he was a great guy."

They continued to descend the stairs, their footsteps softly echoing above and below.

"What about your mother?" Minerva asked coming to the landing at the bottom of the stairs.

Dean stopped short right behind her.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, Dean. I didn't mean to be –" Minerva began.

"No. It's alright." Dean said quickly. "You didn't know." Dean sighed and rubbed the stubble growing on his chin. He ran his fingers through his hair quickly and leaned against the cold dungeon wall, crossing his arms. "She, uh . . ." he cleared his throat. "She died when I was just a kid. Sammy was only 6 months old."

Minerva clutched her chest sympathetically. "Oh, Dean. What happened . . . if you don't mind my asking?"

Dean looked down and watched how the torch light played off the stone of the hallway. It reminded him of that night. How the fire engulfed his childhood home. "This yellow-eyed demon named Azazel killed our father. Our mother made a deal with the demon to bring him back to life . . . this was years before we were born. The night the demon came to collect on their deal, she tried to stop him. He uh . . . pinned her to the ceiling, slashed her open . . . then . . ." Dean swallowed hard. "Made her burst into flames . . . the house burned down. She was still alive when . . ." he paused and redirected. "Our dad scooped both of us up . . . saved us from the fire. Then he vowed to hunt down the demon who killed our mom. It took over his whole life . . . then it cost him his life."

Minerva placed a gentle hand on his arm. "What a horrible tragedy to endure at such a young age. I am so very sorry, Dean."

Before Dean could reply, a figure emerged from the dark corridor and stepped into the torchlight. "And so am I." came the voice of Severus Snape.

Sam approached the castle to find Dumbledore standing out front enjoying the fresh countryside air.

"Good afternoon, Sam." He greeted him.

"And a very good afternoon to you, Dumbledore." replied Sam. "Just the man I wanted to see.

"Is that so?" he said with a chuckle.

"I had a great time with Hagrid. His first class went extremely well. He'll make an excellent Professor."

"I'm glad to hear it, Sam. But something tells me that you have something else on your mind other than how well Hagrid's class went." said Dumbledore.

Sam froze. _How does he always know?_ he thought. "And you'd be right." he said. "I . . . sort of . . . interfered."

Dumbledore looked at him over his half moon specs. "You interfered? In what way?"

"There was a point in this class where one of the students was supposed to get hurt." Sam said.

Dumbledore said nothing, but patiently waited for him to finish.

"Malfoy was supposed to maimed by one of the hippogriffs. He was going to insult one of them called Buckbeak. Even after Hagrid specifically said not to at the beginning of the lesson. Malfoy was too busy making fun of Harry to pay attention, so I sort of . . . stopped it from happening."

Dumbledore listened but gave no outward appearance as to what he was thinking, so he continued.

"He would have had grave injuries, which Madam Pomfrey would be able to heal, but -"

"It would have set a serious chain of events into motion." finished Dumbledore.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have interfered. I just couldn't stand by and watch as it happened."

"It is a testament to the kind of person you are, Sam. Innocents are who you were born to protect. I understand that you felt the need to stop it at the time. But now you have changed the course of the future. You know more than I of what is to come. It is most important that you understand the ripple effect and how it can create waves. Now that you have acted, what will now no longer happen? What will happen in its place?"

"It would have gone to the Ministry. There would have been an inquiry and Buckbeak would have been sentenced to death. It would have nearly destroyed Hagrid in the process."

"But there is more, isn't there?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Yes." Sam said plainly.

"You see now how the smallest change, no matter how innocent or noble the intentions, can manipulate everything else down the line?"

"Yes. I see now what you meant."

"Foreknowledge is dangerous, and you cannot save what is not meant to be saved." he said again.

Even now his blue eyes twinkled. Sam felt awful and slightly sick to his stomach knowing he had messed up the timeline, and felt even worse that Dumbledore was so calm and understanding about it. The fact that he was, made it seem so much worse. It was almost as if his lack of seething lecture _was_ the punishment. He realized then that that was the way Dumbledore worked. He listened to you. You pour your heart and soul into a confession and he simply listens. And when you expect reprimand, instead you got agreeance. In essence, he let you beat yourself up over whatever it is that you did wrong.

"I am sorry, Dumbledore." Sam said, now feeling the full weight of what he had done.

"It cannot be helped now, dear Sam." said Dumbledore. "Let us hope that he ripple is small enough not to tip the boat downstream, eh?"

Sam nodded and they both turned and entered the castle together.

Severus took a few careful steps toward Dean and Minerva. It was clear that Severus was upset, even by the torchlight and the gloom of the dungeon. His eyes were red and slightly puffy. Minerva was taken by surprise at this discovery. She had never seen Severus in such a state. Had he been crying?

"Severus?" she asked in concern.

"Forgive me, Dean." Severus said, ignoring her. "I have sorely misjudged you."

Dean and Minerva both stood shocked. This was the last thing Dean would have ever expected from him.

"There are very few of us in this world who have experienced heartache and loss by such evil hands." Severus continued.

Minerva now realized what this was about and kept her silence.

The Potions Master continued. "I saw your memories. I saw the violence and bloodshed, but I did not understand. You have lost so much, but you keep fighting. I understand now. You do it so that others won't have to endure the same loss."

Dean nodded. "That's what we try to do, anyway."

"Forgive me, Dean. I pried into your memories looking for a reason to distrust you. I looked past your tragedy even though I saw it with my own eyes and saw only what I wanted to. I too have experienced loss at the hands of evil, and I was wrong to think I was alone in my grief."

"Hey, man." Dean casually sniffed and offered a hand. "No hard feelings."

Severus slowly stepped forward and shook his hand. "I trust this conversation shall be kept confidential?"

"You got it." Dean responded.

Minerva quickly used the opportunity to excuse herself.

"I see you both have things well in hand. I'll leave you to it." she said, and hurriedly began to climb the stairs and out of sight.

"So!" Dean began. "Potions!" he clapped and rubbed his hands together.

Severus gestured down the hallway. "Right this way."

Over the next several days, Sam and Dean bounced around from classroom to classroom as Teacher's Aids. They continued to have private lessons in many different subjects either in between classes or at night. Sam found he had a knack for Arithmancy and Charms. Dean grew more proficient in Defense Against the Dark Arts and, with Severus' help, Potions.

On the weekend Dean and Sam were in the greenhouse with Professor Sprout learning about Puffapods and helping with a new batch of Mandrakes. Sam and Neville Longbottom, who seemed to be in the greenhouse a lot, formed a bit of a kinship.

Sam had Malfoy serve his detention by organizing, alphabetizing and restacking all of the books in his and Dean's rooms.

Dean found out from a group of Hufflepuffs how to access the kitchen and met the House Elves who worked there. After his initial shock wore off, he taught them how to make the perfect bacon cheeseburger, and made a few culinary requests of his own to be added to the menu. Namely, pie.

On Sunday, they had an amazing lesson with Remus in which they began to learn the highly difficult Patronus Charm.

"There's gotta be an easier way." Dean said exhausted. Both of the brothers managed a faint ghostly wisp, but not much else.

"You both have the capacity, it is just that it is very advanced magic." said Remus. "With a bit more practice you'll get there."

…

A Moment of Silence Please for Alan Rickman.

Rest In Peace.

….


	13. 12: Don't Fear the Reaper

Chapter 12

Remus, Sam, and Dean sat in the staffroom on Wednesday afternoon. They were talking about the various classes they had sat in on, what they had learned so far, and how well they were getting on.

"Both of you really have come a long way in a week." Remus remarked.

"Thank you." said Sam.

"I didn't think I was going to be any good to tell you the truth." Dean admitted. "And I _definitely_ never thought I'd look forward to tea time."

Remus smiled and poured them all another cup of tea and reached for a biscuit.

"I can honestly say you have been a quick study and both of you have impressed not only myself with your natural talents, but most of the staff as well."

"Yeah, I know." said Sam, rubbing his shoulder. "Hagrid keeps patting me on the back. I think I've got a bruise back there."

The three of them laughed heartily.

"I only nodded off twice in Binns' class this morning." Dean said feigning pride.

"Ah, yes. Well, he does tend to drone on, doesn't he?" said Remus.

They all began another round of chuckles when suddenly the wardrobe in the corner of the room began to shake.

Dean leapt to his feet, spilling his tea, and brandished his wand in the direction of the wardrobe faster than anyone could say 'what was that'?

"Easy! Easy now, Dean." Remus said. Dean lowered his wand. "I think I have an idea as to what might be in there." He set his tea down carefully and walked over to the still rocking wardrobe.

Remus put an ear to the door and listened. "Oh? Oh, yes. What we have here, gentlemen," he said. "is a Boggart."

Dean looked at Sam who nodded in recognition. He sat back down and retrieved his teacup from the floor.

Remus gave the handle a jiggle and found it was locked tight. "It seems that this one has gone and locked itself in. Of course I'll have to get rid of it if we are to use the wardrobe again." he said and took a few steps back removing his wand from his pocket.

"Hey, Remus!" Sam said through a mouthful of biscuit. "Aren't boggarts in the third year curriculum?"

Remus thought a moment. "Yes, actually, they are."

"Maybe you could do a practical lesson tomorrow for your class. It could be fun, don't you think?" Sam said.

Remus considered the idea. "Good thinking, Sam! I was going to teach them about Grindylows but a Boggart lesson would be ace!" He lowered his wand and returned it to his pocket. Returning to the table, he picked up his tea and sipped while he stood in thought.

Dean and Sam both looked up at him inquisitively.

Remus returned the cup to the table then plunged hands deep in his pockets pensively. He looked straight at Sam. "Now, how do you know about boggarts?" he asked.

"Well, I have read about them." he admitted without saying more than he should.

"And what do you know about them?"

"Uuuuuh . . . well, I know that they are shape shifters and nobody knows what they look like because they take the shape of your fears."

"Exactly. Dean, what about you?"

Dean looked up a bit startled that he'd been asked. "Didn't know there'd be a pop quiz." he laughed nervously.

"Anything at all?"

"Not really." Dean shrugged. "Sorry."

"Do you know what scares you?" Remus asked seriously.

Dean froze. His eyes lifted and met Remus'. "When you have fought as much 'scary' as we have, a few of them tend to stick with you."

"Do you know which scares you the most?"

Sam cleared his throat. "I remember we had this one job." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "These nightmares were coming to life and killing people. I had to, um, face my fear."

"And what is that, Sam?" Remus queried.

"He's afraid of clowns." Dean said.

Sam winced at the word.

"Really?" Remus smiled. "I would have thought with your past history that your biggest fear would have been something more sinister." He and Dean began to chuckle, which in turn became a contagious laughter that after a while, Sam couldn't help but join in.

"Dean is afraid of flying!" Sam said through the giggles.

"Oh?" said Remus. "Perhaps that explains why he was unable to command the broom into his hand during the tests."

"It sensed his fear." said Sam, relishing the chance to rag on his brother a bit. He wiggled his fingers playfully in Dean's direction and make silly "OOooOooo" sounds as if trying to spook him.

The wardrobe danced in the corner.

Dean tossed a sugar cube at Sam pegging him in the shoulder. It bounced off and shot across the room and disappeared into a corner somewhere.

"Have you ever encountered a Dementor?" Remus asked sincerely, breaking the moment's lightheartedness.

"Nope. Can't say we have." answered Dean.

"Or your world's equivalent." he continued.

"The concept of a Dementor is . . . it's like several things in one creepy package." Sam offered.

"I see." Remus began to pace a bit. "Dean, you wanted an easier way to learn the Patronus Charm. There is simply no other way to learn other than to throw you into the deep end. I think tonight we should travel out to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds and find ourselves a Dementor."

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"And what exactly would that achieve?" Dean asked.

"Couldn't you use the Boggart to teach us?" said Sam.

Remus lifted an eyebrow. "A very clever idea, Sam. However if neither one of you have ever encountered a Dementor, and you have never felt it's effects, that Boggart in there would not turn into one. It would turn into a clown, wouldn't it?"

Sam shuddered.

"Don't worry. I am perfectly capable of a full corporeal Patronus. I will be able to fend them off if need be. But you will not fully understand what the Dementor is capable of until you've met one. How those happy thoughts that you've been digging down deep for are not nearly happy enough. Once you are under a Dementor's influence it will be very difficult -"

"To find our Happy Place." finished Dean.

"Precisely!"

Sam nodded to Dean after thinking it over.

"If that's what it takes." Dean agreed.

"Good!" said Remus. "We shall venture out after the children have been sent off to bed. Of course I shall be informing Dumbledore of our little adventure."

The three parted ways and the brothers went off to the greenhouse to sit in on Pomona's class. Today she was doing a refresher lesson on the severing charm, _Diffindo._ The ivy on the outside of the greenhouse was becoming far too dense to deal with, so the students took turns hacking away at it with the spell.

By the time the class was over, the sky was beginning to darken. They hurried up to the Great Hall in preparation for dinner.

"What do you think about this field trip tonight?" asked Dean.

Sam had been thinking about it all afternoon. "I think it's probably the best way to learn."

"Well it's a good thing we deal with monsters all the time." he chuckled.

"Throughout the year, this school sees a _lot_ of these things. It is better that we learn how to deal with them properly. If we can't make a proper _Patronus_ then we're pretty much screwed."

"I hear that. Ooo is that pie I smell?"

"Yeah. I think it is."

Dean inhaled deeply and his eyes practically disappeared as they rolled back into his head. "Oh, yeah. Come to Daddy." Dean said, and walked with a purpose the rest of the way.

When they were finally seated, and all of the children were present and accounted for, the food appeared. Low and behold, not only was there pie, there were four kinds of pie. But the thing that they did not expect was the large platter that appeared in front of them on which sat a perfectly stacked pyramid of bacon cheeseburgers and a large bowl of American French Fries.

Dean fist pumped in silent victory and grabbed one of the burgers. He looked it over in his hands and smelled it. "Yes!" he quietly said to himself. He then took a large bite and moaned in food-ecstasy.

Sam stared at him the entire time. Dean finally finished his first mouthful and saw Sam's attention was on him.

"What? This is the most amazing burger I've ever freaking had!"

"You found your way to the kitchen didn't you?"

"Yes I did!" Dean said very satisfied with himself.

"When did you do that?" Sam asked.

"Sunday." he said before taking another huge bite.

Remus made his way over to where the brother's sat. He leaned down between the two to speak with them.

"I've spoken with Dumbledore, and he has given us permission to venture out to the boundaries and have a Dementor encounter. Just so long as it is not one near the castle he has asked us to stay as out of sight as possible."

"That makes sense." Sam agreed.

Dean continued to chew, refusing to add any verbal confirmation to the conversation. Instead he nodded in agreeance and gave a thumb up to show his support.

Remus smiled and gave Dean a light pat on the shoulder before returning to his seat.

Sam and Dean finished eating and met up with Remus. They headed into the night, following the shore of the lake northward, behind the castle. As they walked, Remus took a couple of chocolate bars out of his pocket and handed one each to them.

"Now, these will help you recover after an encounter with a Dementor." he began. "You must prepare yourselves, as you will feel it before you see it and it will not be pleasant. You must recall happy memories like you have been doing, but for the real thing you must find something even stronger. Let it fill you up like –"

The air suddenly turned frigid. They were quite some ways from the castle now. They had followed the road that led to the gate house on the opposite side of the lake from the castle. As they neared the gate the three saw the water along the banks begin to freeze. Not just a frosty slush, but a full on hard freeze. The wildflowers, folded up for the night froze solid and wilted.

"This is it!" said Remus looking around for the encroaching Dementor. "Happy memories and wands at the ready!"

All three of them presented their wands to the night air and stood with their backs together.

Remus stood strong against the illusive foe. He was ready. Dean looked around wildly, he could not see what direction it was coming from.

"Steady!" said Remus.

Sam looked every which way, he could not see it either, but soon he began to hear its death-rattle like breathing. It was so close. So close he _should_ be able to see it now. He felt the happiness of his memory start to fade like a dimmer switch. He looked up and there it was floating a ways above them, hiding in the black of the night sky.

"Look up!" Sam shouted.

They saw it descend upon them from above. The closer it got, the colder it became. Sam and Dean began to feel its effects like a heavy weight was pulling them down. The blood drained from their faces and they felt a sadness they have felt many times before.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ Dean said feebly.

"Again!" Remus said. "Hold on to your happy thought! Don't let it take it from you!"

" _Expect –"_ Dean faltered.

Sam lifted his wand and strained against the depression and quickly blurring vision. " _Expecto Patronum!"_ he yelled.

A faint, glowing white wisp floated out from the tip of his wand.

"That's it!" Remus shouted. "Keep going, Sam!" He flicked his wrist in a clockwise circle and produced the beginnings of his own patronus.

Sam tensed every muscle in his body and with a renewed effort he took every last ounce of energy and called upon the memory of himself, Dean, Bobby, and their father all together. They had had a barbeque and watched old horror movies and spent the night just talking and drinking beers. The whole family together.

He remembered that night and with gritted teeth he bellowed, " _EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

He felt the body of his brother slump down on the ground against his leg as a blinding light erupted from his wand. It joined Remus' and formed a glowing white shield above them. The Dementor struggled against the shield, rasping and rattling in its frustration. A ghostly owl burst forth out of the shield leaving a swirling trail of illumination in its wake. The owl flew around the trio once and then made a bee line straight for the Dementor, chasing it off. Sam's energy spent, he too collapsed. His vision tunneled and then went black.

Dean came to. Remus was alternating shaking him and lightly tapping his cheek. "There we are. Come 'round now. That's it." He then turned his attention to Sam and began to wake him.

"Ooo. That was gnarly." Dean said shaking his head. "What happened?"

"That would be the effects of the Dementor." Remus answered still tapping Sam's face.

"I had it. It was there." said Dean. "Then it all just . . . melted away."

"Trust me, eat the chocolate. It helps." he said, popping a piece of chocolate into his mouth. "I had already started my patronus when Sam brilliantly came through!"

Dean opened his chocolate and ate a piece. The warmth of it filled his mouth and spread to his chest and limbs quickly. Sam was still out cold.

"Did you see his Patronus?" Remus asked.

"No I didn't." Dean admitted.

"It was an owl. Full corporeal! Lovely!"

Sam began to stir.

"There you go. Nice and easy does it." said Remus

"Ooooooh!" Sam moaned. "That sucked!" He opened his eyes and looked around him. All he saw in his frame of vision was Remus handing him a bit of chocolate. "Where's Dean?"

"I'm right here." Dean answered and tapped him on the leg.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good. You?"

"Oh, I'm . . . . just peachy." Sam said taking the chocolate from Remus. He ate it and felt better quite quickly. He was surprised.

Remus shook Sam by the shoulders slightly. "You did it, Sam! You did it!"

"I did? What was it?"

"An owl!" Remus was grinning from ear to ear.

Dean looked at Sam happy for him but clearly disappointed. . "Congrats man. I'm sure it was awesome."


	14. 13: Welcome to My Nightmare

Chapter 13

"Good afternoon," Remus said to his class the following day. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags? Today we will be having a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

The class looked very confused but did as they were told. Dean and Sam stood in the back of the class, ready to lead the children to the staffroom.

"Right then," said Remus, when everyone was ready. "If you'd kindly follow The Professors Winchester!" he said pointing at them.

On the way they came across Peeves, who was up to no good, of course. He was stuffing chewing gum into the broom cupboard's keyhole whilst floating upside down.

Sam halted the class next to the mischief-maker and said plainly, "And just what do you think you are doing, Peeves?" Peeves stopped what he was doing and slowly turned to looked up at him wearing the largest, 'I'm busted' smile.

"Winchesty-is-the-besty!" he said as innocently as he could muster, then he closed his eyes, threw his hands up into moose antlers on either side of his head, and began to blow raspberries at him and the rest of the class. That is, until Remus caught up and waded through the class to the front of the group.

Remus stood a foot in front of the poltergeist receiving ghostly spittle into his face when he cleared his throat which made Peeves freeze. He opened his eyes to see Remus standing inches from his face. Remus smiled at him.

"Hello, Peeves." he said simply.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin -"

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms."

Peeves only rudely continued to blow raspberries.

Remus smiled, turned his head over his shoulder to the class and said, "This is a useful little spell, please watch closely!"

He raised his wand and exclaimed, " _Waddiwasi_!" The gum shot out of the keyhole and into Peeve's nose, promptly making him choke and gag, and he flew off cussing up a storm.

"Cool, sir!" said Dean Thomas.

"Thank you, Dean. . . other Dean." he teased. "You two should hang out sometime." With a hearty laugh from the class he bid them follow him to their destination.

Remus led them down another corridor and to the door of the staffroom. He held the door open. "Inside, please."

Sam and Dean walked in first and saw Severus sitting in one of the many mismatched chairs. He smiled slightly at the sight of them but it quickly fade when he saw the class file in behind them. How quickly he went from smile to scowl. He stood and waited until till he saw Remus step in.

"Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this." He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

Poor Neville's face went red and so did the tips of his ears which meant even if he looked down at the ground, which he did, there was no hiding his embarrassment.

Remus looked at Severus with raised eyebrows. "Actually," he said in an obvious attempt to piss him off, "I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation." He walked over to Neville and patted him on the shoulder and then grinned defiantly at Severus.

Severus all but snarled at him, so Remus added, "And I am sure he will perform it admirably." Severus had had enough and he left quickly after that, slamming the door behind him which startled several of the students.

"Now then!" Remus said turning his attention to the students. "If you'll kindly turn about and follow the Winchesters to the other side of the room, thank you."

The class did as they were told. The massive amount of migrating feet rattled the floorboards which apparently had awakened the sleeping boggart inside the wardrobe. It aggressively began to shake and rock. The students in front, who had been moving toward it unawares, suddenly began walking backward creating an accordion of students. There were gasps of surprise.

"Nothing to worry about." Remus assured his class. "There's a Boggart in there." There were now several nervous looking students in the class, Neville looked especially scared.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Remus. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks - I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and Professor Sam Winchester suggested that instead of getting rid of it, to give my third years a practical lesson in how to deal with a Boggart should you come across one! So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"

Hermione put up her hand.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself." Remus said and Hermione looked very proud of herself. "So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This means, that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Harry look distracted and annoyed that even though he had been asked the question, Hermione was practically falling over herself to answer it.

"Er - because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?" he said.

"Precisely! It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake - tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening."

There were a few nervous laughs from the class.

"The charm that repels a Boggart is simple," continued Remus, "yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please... _Riddikulus_!"

The class repeated in unison.

"Good," said Remus. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."

The poor kid looked absolutely terrified. Remus asked him what scared him the most which turned out to be Professor Severus Snape himself. He then he told Neville to imagine his grandmother, well, rather her clothes. Then he took it one step further and told him to imagine Professor Snape _in_ his grandmother's clothes.

"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Remus. "And you will raise your wand - thus - and cry " _Riddikulus_ " - and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag."

The entire class began to laugh.

"Everyone ready?" Remus asked. "And in the spirit of fairness, the Winchesters will go after Neville, just to give you more examples of how _Riddikulus_ can work to your advantage. See your fear, and then think of how to make it funny. Everyone form a line if you please."

Dean and Sam went wild eyed. They moved into position behind Neville, trying to smile in front of the children. As soon as they turned to face the wardrobe and consequently Remus, they bugged out their eyes at him as if to say ' _What the hell are you thinking!_ '

Neville now stood in front of the line, followed by Sam, then Dean, then the rest of the class stood behind him.

"On the count of three, Neville. One – two – three!"

Remus pointed his wand and the wardrobe clicked open. Out came Severus Snape. Neville began to shake in his robes. Boggart-Snape came closer and closer.

Neville pointed his wand and stuttered. "R—r— _Riddikulus!_ "

There was a loud cracking pop, and suddenly Boggart-Snape was dressed in Neville's Grandmother's clothes. The entire class laughed hysterically and the Boggart looked around confused.

"Excellent, Neville!" cried Remus! "Sam! Your turn!"

Neville retreated and Sam stepped up, already sweating. Remus watched closely. Boggart-Snape looked at him and with another loud CRACK there stood the same clown Sam had encountered years before. The scarily painted face, the long, green hair parted in the middle, flower on his lapel.

It began to laugh manically and teasingly waved at him as if to say 'Hey there, Sammy! Now I'm gonna getcha!'

Sam shuddered. He pointed his wand as the clown started to lunge at him. " _Riddikulus!"_ he nearly screamed. What came out was in a pitch that was notably higher than he was comfortable admitting to. Suddenly the clown's hands, nose, and shoes turned into balloon animals which began to rapidly deflate, sending the clown reeling backward. Its arms waved dramatically in the air like those blow up advertising tubes with the flailing arms and impartial smiley faces painted on them. The class erupted into loud laughter.

"Well done, Sam! Dean, have a go!" Remus cheered.

Dean reluctantly stepped forward. He gulped hard, almost audibly. Remus, again, was paying close attention, clutching his wand. The Boggart zeroed in on Dean almost immediately but hesitated in changing form as if it was searching through the directory of Dean's subconscious. It reared up and, CRACK! The Boggart took the form of something four-legged and barely visible like _The Predator_ 's cloaking device. It snarled and barked and gnashed it's nearly invisible teeth.

"Ah, crap! It's a friggin' Hellhound!" Dean said and he rushed forward to use himself as an obstacle between it and the kids. He spread his arms wide. "Here!" he said as it appeared to be looking past him at the buffet of children behind him.

"Now, Dean!" Sam said urgently.

" _Riddikulus!"_ Dean said. CRACK! The Hellhound turned into the cutest little confused puppy you had ever seen.

"Aaaaawwww!" cried the girls in the class, the boys laughed.

"HA!" cried Dean. "Not so tough now!"

"Good job!" Remus said. "Parvati, forward!"

She did as she was told and her Boggart turned into a Mummy whose head fell off. Laughter.

"Seamus!"

A Banshee that lost her voice. Laughter.

Several more students had their turn with several more hilarious outcomes. Eventually it became confused, the laughter became too much for it and it exploded in a puff of smoke.

"Well done everyone!" Remus said.

"I think everyone deserves a round of applause, yes?" added Sam. The students responded in kind. Remus and Dean joined in the applause.

Remus doled out some house points and dismissed the class. On their way out the kids chatted lively about this being the best lesson they'd ever had.

As soon as the last student was out of room, the three adults sank exhausted into the room's mismatched chairs.

"I thought it went well!" Remus said offhand like it was nothing. He smiled knowing full well he was about to get a talking to.

"Damn it, Remus!" Dean said, trying not to get too angry. "Why didn't you tell us you were going to make us do that?" He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "We've got some dangerous things in our Rolodex. What if I couldn't think of something to turn it into?"

"I wouldn't have let it get that far, Dean. It was as much a lesson for you as the children. Honestly, I thought it might turn into a Dementor after last night."

"Oh no. Not Dean's." Sam said.

"This Hellhound, you called it. Why is it your greatest fear? Why one of those and not something else?"

Dean remained silent, sweat still beaded on his forehead, his eyes stared directly at Remus without blinking.

"Years ago, I . . . I was killed." Sam began.

Remus' attention was now focused solely on Sam. "Killed?"

"Yes. I was dead. But Dean made a deal with a Crossroads Demon for my life. She resurrected me, and Dean got one year to live. When that year was up, the hellhounds came for him, as they do all deal makers. But they usually get ten years. Dean and I, we're on the most wanted list by both Hell and Heaven."

Dean stood up and moved behind his chair and gripped the top of the seat hard.

"But at the time, there was nothing we could do. If he tried to break the deal I would have died again."

Remus nodded. "And what do they do when they come for you?"

Dean spoke with a stone cold voice. "They tear your body apart and drag your soul to Hell."

"I see." Remus said. "I admit I don't know the first thing about the world that you both come from. It is clear I have much to learn about it and how it works. But regardless . . ." he stood and approached Dean and met his eyes with his. "I sincerely apologize, my friend. I had no idea."

Dean gritted his teeth. It was true, he didn't know. None of these people knew what it was like. But there was also absolutely no sense in holding a grudge against a man that didn't know any better, and had been nothing but sincere and helpful to him and his brother since they got here. He let his head drop forward, leaned against the chair, and sighed.

"Just promise me one thing." Dean said.

"Name it." Remus said in earnest.

Dean lifted his head and said, "Just lemme get another crack at that damn Dementor."

Remus smiled, relieved. "You've got a deal." he said and clasped hands with Dean and briefly hugged.

"We're good man. Just next time give us a heads up so we can properly prepare, 'kay?" Dean asked.

"It's safer that way." said Sam.

"Of course." agreed Remus. "Shall we try again tonight after dinner?"

"Let's do this!" said Dean.


	15. 14: Here I Go Again

Chapter 14

The night could not come fast enough for Dean. All day long he was distracted from the lessons each class he sat in on was learning. Happy memories were few and far between. He began by recalling as much as he could of his childhood. Obviously nothing popped out in his mind. It was dull and full of repetition.

He thought of his teenage years. The distractions he looked for to ease the monotony. A new location every week or so, a new school, new people. Nothing he could sink his teeth into. Late teens, more of the same. _The early twenties,_ he thought. _That's when the freedom started. Well, as much as freedom comes in this line of work_.

That was when Sam joined up with him. His loss of Jessica in the same way their mother was killed, that was the only reason he agreed to come with him. He knew that. Had it really been that long ago? Death. Loss. Death. Loss. _What the hell did Sammy think of?_ he thought. _Why was he able to produce a full Patronus? What the hell was so happy in his life to give him the edge on me?_

He hardly touched his food all day. At breakfast he picked at the eggs on his plate. At lunch, he ate half of his sandwich. And now, at dinner, he sort of picked at his roast and veggies with his fork till it was in shreds.

"Dude." Sam said, taking notice. "What's up with you today?"

Dean looked up slowly from his plate with a highly troubled look on his face. He hadn't been staring _at_ his plate per se, more _through_ it.

Sam saw his face fully now. It was the face of someone who had been contemplatively scrunching their face up in deep thought. The lines on his face seemed so much deeper. His expression was somewhere locked between defeat and exhaustion.

"Oh wow." Sam said staggered. "Are you alright?"

"What? Oh, oh yeah. I'm just . . ." his voice trailed off as he sunk back into his own mind.

"Dean?" his brother asked worriedly.

He didn't speak for a couple of drawn-out heartbeats. "What was your happy thought, Sammy?" he asked finally.

Sam felt a sigh of relief escape him. "Oh! Is that what this is about?"

Dean nodded simply.

"You scared me there for a minute, man. I thought you were gonna tell me – well to be honest I didn't know what you were going to tell me."

"How is it that you were able to pull that owl out of your ass and I hit the bricks?" Dean asked.

Sam put his knife and fork down. This was obviously a very serious conversation and he wanted to give it an earnest go. Who knows when the next time Dean would be so open would be.

"Well, it wasn't easy. I really had to dig but I found it. I thought, when was the last time I was actually, fully, 100% happy. Well, not happy exactly, more like . . . content."

Dean nodded and listened.

"We have fun when we can, we take a load off. But it's temporary. So I thought, when was the last time we had enough of a breather, and the situation felt like a normal life? Remember the time it was you, me, Dad, and Bobby? We had just finished that big case and we decided to take a mini vacation?"

Dean's heavy brow lifted in remembrance. "Oh, yeah. When we lived off of burgers, dogs, and beer for a week? Watched all the monster flicks? Yeah, I remember that. That's it? That was your happy thought?"

"Well, yeah." Sam admitted. "Back then things weren't as messed up. It was simpler. We were all together. Everyone we considered family, all at one place at one time . . . no cases, no demons, no angels. Just us."

Dean looked at him and paused. "You're one sappy son of a bitch, you know that?" he said trying not to break his delivery. He finally broke and smiled for the first time all day.

Sam smiled with him and they shared a laugh. It was moments like this that Sam treasured the most. Perhaps he was sappy.

"Okay, so what happy thought were you using?" Sam asked Dean.

"I was thinking about when we moved into the Bunker. Setting up my own room. Never really had one before. Finally had my own space."

"That's good." Sam said. "But there has gotta be something more meaningful. Something stronger."

"I've been racking my brain all day, man. I can't think of anything."

"I can make a suggestion. You're not going to like it, but it's something."

Dean looked at him sideways. "What am I not going to like?"

Sam chose his words carefully. "When you look back, initially it may be a bit painful, but weren't you happy when you were with Lisa and Ben?"

Dean froze. He had been avoiding the memories of Lisa and Ben purposely. But what Sam said was true. Initially, the memories that immediately came from the thought of them was how he had let them down. How he had scared them half to death while fighting the urges of his temporary state as a vampire. He was trying to keep them safe. He had failed. Hadn't he? He brought the danger into their home when he had made a promise. The hunter in him had ruined what was otherwise a blissfully ignorant life. Aside from all of the precautions and contingencies he had set in place and checked on the daily. Like many things, he just couldn't let it go. And once he found out Sam was alive . . . well . . . it wasn't an easy choice.

But Sam was right. Once you looked past all the regret and self loathing of how it turned out, there was happiness. He had been happy. He loved Lisa. He loved Ben. For a year, he had known what it was like to be part of a normal family. He was, for lack of a better word, a father to Ben. And had Sam not come back from the dead, soulless or otherwise, he may have been a husband. No. He couldn't really blame that on Sam. It hadn't been his fault. It was their past. Those Djinn would have found him regardless. The timing was just . . .

He forced himself to pull out of his own head again. "You're right." he answered Sam. "I was happy."

Sam smiled weakly. He knew how hard it was for him to think about them. And of course there was a certain amount of distain his brother kept for him for his part in it. He hadn't been himself of course, but it still happened. Nothing could be said or done to make up for the loss that he had cost his brother. He knew that.

"They are your happy thought, Dean." Sam said.

"Thank you, Peter Pan." Dean said and nudged him.

They laughed again.

"Oh!" said Sam suddenly. "I had an idea about how to maintain your happiness when the Dementors get close."

"What's that?" Dean said genuinely interested in his theory.

"You know how Remus gave us the chocolate afterward?"

"Yeah." Dean said remembering how the warmth returned and spread quickly through them.

"Well, what if you ate a piece of chocolate _while_ the Dementor was attacking?"

Dean thought about it for a second. "That makes sense. Like in Zelda when you use a fairy in the middle of a really hard boss battle."

"And you call _me_ the nerd." Sam said laughing.

"Alright, alright." Dean retorted. "But yeah, it's a good theory, and I'm going to give it a shot."

After dinner, Remus met up with Sam and Dean.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I trust that you've done your homework?"

They chuckled together.

Dean smiled. "I think I've got it this time.

Remus led them along the familiar path along the lake out into the darkness. From the woods nearby came the sounds of unknown beasts roaming through the trees. Remus looked up at the waning moon that appeared and disappeared behind the cover of clouds drifting across the sky. All was quiet, save for the sounds of the lake lapping at the shore, the soft chirp of crickets, and their three pairs of footsteps.

"So Sammy thinks he's got an idea." said Dean, breaking the silence.

Remus mused. "Oh?"

"Yeah. It's about the chocolate." he confirmed.

"What about it?" Remus asked.

"Well, you know how it helps after a Dementor attack?"

"Of course."

"Well I thought, why not use it _during_?"

Remus slowed his pace as he thought. The wheels seemed to turning over in his mind as he thought about it. "An interesting theory, to be sure."

"You mean nobody has thought of that before?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Well if you think about it, we are actively seeking a Dementor. All of the Greats of history put all their findings into the books that we teach from. But not many modern people with a brain in their head will go looking for an encounter with them. Most witches and wizards spend their time trying to avoid them. "

"That makes sense." said Dean. "Well, we actively go looking for monsters all the time. Guess that's just the way Hunters think."

"You know," Remus began. "I think you both would make great discoveries here. You think differently. I know that you are trying to find a way back to your world, but would you consider staying?"

Sam spoke first. "Well, I . . . I mean it's a nice break from what we are used to."

Dean piped in, "And it's definitely different than what we are used to."

"There's that," said Sam. "And . . . and we don't even know if this world goes on after the story is finished."

That had done it. Sam clamped his mouth tightly shut.

Remus turned to Sam. "Don't worry, Sam. I've learned my lesson not to ask questions I shouldn't know the answers to."

"Oh, good." Sam felt relieved.

Remus flipped himself around and stopped the brothers in their tracks. "But I will ask two questions."

Sam gulped. He knew he couldn't keep interfering.

"Be as ambiguous as you'd like." Remus continued. "All I want to know . . ."

 _Here it comes!_ he thought.

". . . Does the Dark Lord return?"

 _Harmless enough to answer, right?_ Sam took a breath. "Yes." he answered.

". . . And do we win?" Remus finished.

Sam's heart felt that same pang of guilt as before with Dumbledore. Knowing full well the outcome and body count was a horrible feeling. _He asked a question, but asked for no details. He doesn't have to know that he doesn't make it._ _If I told him that they win, he will die knowing that his side does win. I can't deny him that, can I?_ Sam thought.

"Yes." Sam said simply, biting his tongue to prevent himself from saying any more.

Remus smiled and looked as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. "Oh, most excellent." he said.

Somewhere deep in the woods a most horrible screech erupted from nowhere. Like something out of a horrible nightmare, it was reminiscent of a scream with the pitch of a diving hawk coming in for the kill, and some sort of wailing moan.

All three men drew their wands.

"We best get a move on." Remus said after some time and began walking with a purpose.

They returned to the place they had gone before near the gatehouse. They approached it with caution and stayed alert. They came to the place they had been attacked before and waited. Ten minutes had come and gone before Remus suggested they go further along the path.

As they walked, Sam handed the others some chocolate. "As soon as you see it, eat it."

"Right-o!" said Remus.

"Got it." said Dean.

Another fifteen minutes went by and still nothing approached them. The night had gotten beyond chilly and their breath was visible with every exhale.

"Well, if we don't find anything in the next twenty minutes, I say we try again tomorrow night." said Remus.

"Yeah, alright." Dean said downheartedly.

Remus turned back the way they came to take a survey of the area. Out of the woods with no warning a Dementor shot toward him at break-neck speed. Before he could react it had swooped over them and had drawn a deep rattling kiss from Remus, who quickly lost his footing. Dean and Sam ducked and popped the chocolate into their mouths. Sam broke off a piece and shoved it into Remus' mouth as he recovered from the blitz attack.

The ground was now covered in frost, and the air seemed to crystallize and become like fog. Remus used the effect of the chocolate to regain his strength and got up quicker than he had anticipated. "It's working, Sam!" Remus muttered said and they all looked wildly around for where the Dementor went.

Sam looked up. That's where it was before. He wished he hadn't looked up. "Ah, crap!" he exclaimed.

The other two followed his gaze. Up above them, swirling around and around, were half a dozen Dementors.

"Gonna need more chocolate." Sam said taking a huge bite right out of the bar itself. The others followed suit and did the same.

The Dementors began to descend all at once.

Remus gave instructions quickly. "Happy thoughts! On the count of three! ONE! TWO! THREE!"

" _EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_ the trio yelled in unison.

White light erupted from all three wands and joined together to form the familiar shield. One after another the Dementors bounced off of it. They flew at it again and again but they could not get near their prey.

A glowing wolf swiftly leapt from the shield, followed by a shimmering owl. They flitted about for a bit but did not attack the Dementors. They stood guard in front of the shield as if waiting for something. Suddenly something else broke through the shield. In a blur it had captured one of the Dementors in its claw.

The three tried to make out what it was. It wasn't until a massive tail appeared and stuck the Dementor with its stinger that they realized it was a large scorpion.

The Dementor screeched loudly as the Patronus attacked it. All at once the other two Patronuses began to attack as well. The wolf and owl encircled the other five Dementors and they began to escort the shrieking foes further and further away.

The Scorpion holding the one trapped Dementor in its claw was stinging it over and over again. With each sting the Dementor cried out. Remus looked on in amazement.

"I've never seen this before!" he bellowed over the din.

The scorpion reached up with its other claw and gripped it with both. Without warning the scorpion ripped the Dementor in half, discarding the pieces to the wind. They faded into a black smoke which blew away on the wind. Shortly after, the Patronus itself faded away.

Everything went silent. Nothing to hear, but the lapping water, their ragged breathing, and eventually, the chirp of the crickets.


	16. 15: Night Moves

Chapter 15

The trio retired to Remus' chambers and warmed themselves by the roaring fire. They talked excitedly about their encounter while drinking hot cocoa. It thawed them thoroughly on the inside while the blaze did the rest.

"That was brilliant, Dean, absolutely brilliant!" Remus said, patting Dean on the shoulder.

Sam smiled at his brother. "That was crazy!"

"Did you see it when it just reached up and was like . . ." he mimicked the scorpion tearing the Dementor in half with a ripping sound effect.

Remus sat on the edge of his desk. "I have never seen anything like it, Dean. Nor have I ever heard of a scorpion Patronus before."

Dean grinned goofily. "Well, I do love _The Scorpions_." he said and took a swig of his cocoa.

Remus blinked and cocked his head to the side not understanding his reference.

Sam seized the moment to explain. "Oh! _The Scorpions_ are a band from our world."

"Ah! I see." Remus said nodding.

Dean leaned back into the comfortable chair and began to relax. Truly relax. Being able to fight off a Dementor, which is pretty nasty in its own right, was quite an accomplishment. But knowing he did it in the most kick-ass way possible, made him feel like his old self again.

"So, what makes a Patronus take animal form? Is it like a spirit animal?" Sam asked.

Remus' eyebrows lifted. "That is an excellent question, Sam!" He stood from his perch on the edge of the desk and walked over to a bookshelf. "I have a book on the subject here somewhere if you would like to take a look at it."

"Yeah, I'd love to." Sam said.

Remus found the book he was looking for and removed it from the shelf. He blew across the cover which erupted in a puff of dust that hung heavy in the air a moment. It dissipated into the shadows cast by the fireplace where it became one with the dark.

Sam took the book and eagerly thumbed through it.

Dean looked content. Lazily he looked at Remus and spoke. "Well yours was obviously the wolf."

"Yes, you could say that the wolf is my, spirit animal, as you put it." he chortled in response. "It's more of a spirit _guardian_ , really."

Sam read from the book out loud. "It says here, The Wolf is a strong symbol of loyalty and patience. It is rooted deeply in the importance of learning through teaching, new ideas, freedom of the mind and body, and responsibility for self and others."

"Hmm." Dean said, nodding slightly. "What about your owl?"

"The ooooowl . . ." Sam said skipping back through the pages. "The Owl – Wisdom through learning and experience gives us the vision to see and navigate anything we come upon, no matter how dark or foreboding. Owl people tend to be secretive and complex, often preferring the solitude of their own thoughts to general interaction, though when they so choose, they make excellent teachers and spiritual guides."

"Accurate!" Dean said. "I'll drink to that!" he raised his cocoa and downed the rest. "Oh hey, what about mine?" he said when he had finished.

"Scorpion . . . scorpion . . ." Sam said flipping through the book once more. "Here it is! The Scorpion is an emblem of strength, destruction, and self-protection. Scorpion people tend to have and aggressive 'shell', often being known as aloof and intimidating."

"Aloof?"

"Eh . . . kinda. . .The impressive defenses protect a soft emotional core. Ha!" Sam laughed and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Makes me sound like a charred marshmallow." he said.

The three laughed for a moment, then Sam continued. "Scorpion people tend to wield a lot of power but are reserved in its use, though they will not hesitate to retaliate if crossed. Now _that's_ accurate!"

"So . . . I'm an aloof and moody marshmallow?"

"That 'bout sums it up, yeah." Sam chuckled.

"Well the important thing here, gentlemen," Remus interjected, "Is that you have accomplished an amazing feat! A full corporeal Patronus from each of you! I had a feeling that you would be able to pull it off."

"You did?" Sam asked.

"Well yes." Remus said matter-of-factly. "You may not be accustomed to this particular type of magic, but you are hardly strangers to the nature of it. From what Dumbledore has told me, you are adept in magic from your own world. However different it may be. I believe it has given you a . . . leg up, as it were."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Dean conceded. "I was worried that it wouldn't translate to be honest. I mean, the magic we use is ancient stuff from all over the world and it usually something, like summoning or banishing a demon, ghost, or an anti-hexing ourselves from some evil juju."

"I see." said Remus.

"We don't even know if the stuff we do will even work here." Sam added.

"Well, we can always test the theory." Remus said, obviously quite interested. "Next month I want to start teaching Harry how to make a Patronus, I think."

Sam nodded. "Good! Good."

"And your idea of using a Boggart to do it is brilliant." he continued. "But before I start giving him lessons, I want you both to come to my classroom. I want you to make a list of a couple of things you do on a regular basis in your world. We will test them out in a controlled environment and see if they work."

"That's all well and good, Remus." said Dean. "But, why? What would be the point?"

"Well, Professor Winchester," he started. "You will have to teach the students something at _some_ point won't you?"

Dean raised his eyebrows in what was clearly an "Ah ha!" moment.

"He does have a point, Dean." Sam said. "I mean what else could we possibly teach them?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He promptly closed it again. "Well . . ."

Sam silently nodded and shrugged at his brother.

"Yeah, I got nothin'." Dean admitted.

"Okay, say a few things _did_ work here. What would we even call the class? I mean, Remus already teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I dunno, uh . . . Monster Hunting 101?" Dean offered.

"Well their monster lore may even be different here."

"How about this?" Remus said. "We will meet every other night, you will teach me what you know about your monsters, and I will tell you about mine. We'll compare notes, and we can form a lesson plan around it."

"But doesn't your class cover monster lore already?" Sam asked.

"Well, yes." Remus confirmed.

"And what about Self Defense? These kids don't know a thing about hand to hand combat. They fight with magic sticks" Dean said.

"And we certainly can't teach them how to load salt rounds into a sawed off shotgun." Sam said incredulously.

"We shall figure it out, gentlemen." Remus said. "But for now, I suggest we all get some much needed rest and continue this conversation tomorrow night."

"Yes!" Dean said, clapping his hands together. "Sleep sounds amazing right now."

"Thank you, Remus." Sam said and shook his hand. "Thank you for everything. We wouldn't have been able to do this without you."

"Don't mention it. I'm glad to help." Remus said with a smile.

"Thanks man." Dean shook his hand as well.

Remus saw the brothers to the door and bid them goodnight. Once they were gone, he kicked off his shoes and walked over to the window of his chambers and looked out onto the gloomy, night shrouded grounds. He looked up into the sky and caught a glimpse of the moon once more as it poked through the clouds. The tiniest sliver of it remained bright and visible as it waned. By Wednesday it would be a New Moon. He sighed and climbed into bed, clothes and all.

Sam entered his room and grabbed a random book of one of the shelves he had made Draco alphabetize for detention. He tossed it onto the bed and read the cover as he disrobed. With a sigh which turned into a yawn, he got into bed. He retrieved the copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ by his legs and began to read by the light of a single candle. His mind kept wandering away from the page. His thoughts were filled with ideas of subjects to teach. By the time he had read the same paragraph four times he decided to call it a night. He put the book down, blew out the candle, turned over on his side, shut his eyes and drifted off.

Dean lay in bed, staring up at the fabric canopy that covered his four-poster bed. He nestled into the mattress and pulled the plush covers up to his chest and tucked his hands under his head. He felt accomplished, like he did after a major job. He wondered how long they would be trapped here in this world, but at the same time, he really didn't care. This was the closest thing to a vacation they'd had in a long, long time.

He lifted his right arm out from under his head and held it out. He flexed his fist and watched the tendons tighten all the way up to where the Mark of Cain was on his forearm. _Damn it, Cass!_ Dean thought, suddenly angry. _How the hell was this more important?_ He took a deep breath. Now he had done it. He had gone and spoiled his own good mood. He exhaled slowly and put his arm back under his head. He closed his eyes and replayed the evening's triumph over and over again in his mind until he finally fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Dean dreamed. He and Sam were in the middle of the Great Hall giving a speech when all the enchanted floating candles near the ceiling suddenly snuffed themselves out and dropped out of the air. The torches on the walls followed shortly after and a ghostly wind blew through the Great Hall. Lightning crashed outside the windows and lit up the room enough where all the students had become different monsters. There were Ghouls, Zombies, Demons, Ghosts, Vampires, Werewolves, Skinwalkers, Wedigos, and Shifters. Everything he knew and hated. They were all around. He felt something weighty in his hand. He looked down and saw he was holding the First Blade.

All the monster-turned children stood from their house tables and focused their attention on him. He turned and realized that Sam had disappeared. Where had he gone? Was he ever really there in the first place?

Another flash of lightning outside the window and the children attacked all at once. Swarms of them, from every direction. He started swinging wildly. Slicing through wave after wave of his attackers, their bodies dropped and began piling around him. Nowhere to run. No use hiding. So he fought. The bodies piled higher and higher until he could no longer see. The remaining monsters over took him and he was buried under the weight of their slashing claws and gnashing teeth. He cried out in panic and it ripped him from his nightmare so suddenly he sat straight up in bed gasping for air. His brow was soaked with sweat and so were the sheets. He struggled to catch his breath.

 _What the hell was that about?_ he thought


	17. 16: Spooky

Chapter 16

Another week had gone by and the brothers found themselves buried in stacks of books and papers. They had been meeting with Remus every other night as he had suggested. They had compiled lists, filling scroll after scroll of comparisons between both world's monster lore. Much to their disappointment, there wasn't much that was the same between the two. For example, Vampires were typical lore. Two fanged bloodsuckers that burned in the sun, were deterred by garlic, and killed by a stake through the heart.

Werewolves were a touchy subject for Remus. He was happy to volunteer information about the ins and outs of lycanthropy, however he was noticeably uneasy when it came to ways to dispatch them.

When it came to ghosts, the more questions they asked, the more questions they had.

"Well, what makes a ghost here seems to be the same as back home." Sam said as he hovered over a book in the wee hours of the morning. Dean had passed out on top of his pile of research. Remus had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed, head down, lightly snoozing. He lifted his head at the sound of Sam's voice.

"Beg pardon?" he asked.

Sam repeated. "It says here that ghosts are created when either someone is afraid of death or someone has a particularly strong attachment to someplace."

Remus nodded in response.

"Well that's the same back home. I wonder if there are more similarities."

"Sam," Remus said exhaustedly. "Can we pick this up on Saturday? Your brother has been out for hours."

Sam looked up and saw Dean hunched over, a little puddle forming on his parchment under his open mouth.

"Right!" he said quickly. He gathered up his notes and shook Dean awake.

"Where's my pie!" Dean exclaimed coming out of his snooze, which apparently was deeper than he first thought.

Remus and Sam chuckled as they cleared the table and put their books and papers into cabinet for safe keeping.

"Would that be cherry, or apple?" Sam teased.

"The biggest lemon meringue you've ever seen, Sam!" Dean said clearly disappointed as he mimicked the circumference.

"That explains the drool, then." Sam said under his breath.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"Nothing. Look, I think we may have something." Sam said changing the subject.

"Which you can discuss on the way to your chambers!" Remus interjected.

"Oh!" Sam said. "Of course."

Remus looked at both of them. "I am awfully fond of both of you, but please, allow me to get some vestige of sleep."

"I hear that!" Dean agreed wholeheartedly.

"Sorry to keep you awake, Remus." Sam apologized.

"I shall see you both on Saturday." he replied as he all but pushed them out the door and shut it behind them.

There was a moment of confusion before Dean pointed at the door and whispered, "Is he sleeping in his classroom?"

Sam looked at his watch. "Well it is 4am."

Dean's eyes widened. "On a school night? What the hell is wrong with you?"

They headed back to their chambers and argued in hushed tones over the importance of a good night's rest when honing the young minds of the future of the Wizarding World.

The next day dragged on and on. Dean was only able to catch a total of 4 hours of sleep, and that was only because he decided to skip breakfast.

Severus slipped Dean a Wideye Potion while passing by him in the back of the classroom and hissed the word "discreetly" through his teeth.

He then walked to the front of the classroom and tossed the potions book on to his desk loudly causing the whole class to look up from their cauldrons frightened. Dean took the opportunity and turned his back, popped the top of the vile and downed the potion. Instantly his eyes bugged with the bitterness of the draught. No doubt about it, he was definitely awake now.

Dean turned around again and gave an awkward thumb up to Severus while he still captivated the attention of the class.

Sam was able to catch an extra hour of sleep because Charms with Flitwick wasn't until after Potions. He was definitely alert when Flitwick had asked him to demonstrate _Lumos Maxima_ for the class. This wasn't the first time he had been asked to Vana White for the students. He didn't mind. Charms was something he had picked up quite easily. He flicked his wand forward, drew it back, and flicked it again.

" _Lumos Maxima!_ " he cried, and the entire room lit up in a blinding light. The students groaned loudly and shielded their entire faces with their arms as if they were afraid the light would burn them.

"Oh yes! Heh heh! Well done, Mr. Winchester. You may extinguish it now." said Flitwick hurriedly.

Sam drew the wave in the air and muttered, "Nox". The light faded and he swore he heard a collective sigh of relief. Several students were blinking madly trying to stamp out the spots they were seeing.

Sam and Dean met at the head table for lunch after another fun lesson in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Remus was noticeably tired during the lesson so they had helped out as much as they could themselves. A very eagerly awaited lunch appeared before them of fish and chips, which they shoveled down their hungry gullets.

They had the rest of the afternoon off on Fridays for their own personal studying, private lessons, and whatnot. Dean was wired from the potion he took earlier that morning, so catching a nap was out of the question.

Sam had noticed that Dean had a pep in his step.

"How come you're all bright-eyed and bushytailed?" he asked.

"Check it out. Severus gave me this potion." Dean said.

"You're go-go juiced up?" Sam asked, hardly believing his ears.

"Two times better than coffee, twice as gross as wheat grass." Dean said smiling and dipping his battered fish into a condiment cup of malt vinegar. He took a bite and moaned. "Never thought I'd like this malt vinegar stuff." He squeezed another lemon over his fish.

"So what are you going to do this afternoon?" Sam asked

"Think I'm gonna go talk to Severus and get him to teach me how to make the Wideye Potion so we can keep a bunch on hand."

Sam looked at him.

"What?"

"I just hope you don't pass out standing up when that stuff wears off."

"Yeah, yeah, pipe down there Dr. Phil."

Sam playfully pushed him, and Dean grinned with full, stuffed hamster cheeks.

He chewed for a bit, swallowed, and asked Sam, "What are you gonna do with your afternoon?"

"Research." he said plainly.

"Aw, man." Dean said. "You mean _more_ research? Can't you take a day off and just relax? You're gonna turn into a book one of these days." he joked.

"No, seriously, Dean. I think I'm on to something."

"What is it? A way to get us home?" he asked hopefully.

"No, I think there are similarities between our ghosts and theirs. Obviously there are differences, but I need to go talk to someone who knows more about it."

"Well, you do that. I'm gonna go talk to Severus. See you later." Dean put his napkin on the table as he stood up and walked down the length of the staff table to where Severus sat.

Sam wiped his mouth and stood and left the table as well. He waved acknowledgements to a few of the professors and students as he exited the Great Hall. He climbed the steps up to the main floor of the castle and followed a few corridors. He doubled back a couple times, making sure he wasn't followed. Climbed to second level, made a circuit of all the hallways, until he came to a small, unassuming door along one wall. He looked both ways and checked that no one was around. All clear.

He opened the door slightly and instantly felt the cold dampness within. He opened the door the rest of the way and snuck in quickly, pulling it shut behind him. He was engulfed in a dull, blue-ish light. He heard a faint dripping sound from somewhere deep in the room. He began to slowly walk deeper into the room and the sound of his footsteps on the dirty tile floor bounced off the walls.

"H-hello?" he called out uncertain.

He heard no rely. Sam continued walking further into the room. It was dark as the torches that lined the walls were not lit. The sunlight filtered through a stained glass window situated in the center of elongated hall flanked on either side by bathroom stalls.

He decided to call out again. "Hello? Myrtle? Myrtle Warren? Are you there?"

It was quiet. He walked over to the stalls and stood there. Just when he thought he may have the wrong bathroom, he heard a voice behind him.

"Nobody calls me that." it said.

Sam jumped and turned around. There she was, sitting on top of the sink column.

"Oh! You're not one of the students!" she said, cocking her head to the side.

Sam couldn't be sure, but . . . was she checking him out? "My name is Sam Winchester. I am one of the classroom aides."

Myrtle batted her ghostly eyelashes at him. "And an American! Oooooooh! It must be my birthday." She giggled and glided up off her perch on the sinks. She feigned shyness as she circled him, practically eating him up with her eyes. "What are you doing here, Sam?"

"I've come to talk with you." he said plainly.

She stopped and flew swiftly to meet him face to face. Her tone changed to one of anger. "YOU MEAN YOU'VE COME TO MAKE FUN OF ME!"

Sam took a step backward. "No. I mean talk with you."

She seemed taken aback. "No one ever comes to talk with poor little Moaning Myrtle." She began to sniff and coo.

"Well I have. And I want to ask you a few questions, if it's alright."

"You've come to ask me how I died." she said.

"Actually, I know how you died."

"Oh? And I suppose you know why I stayed, too."

"Olive Hornby. She was making fun of your glasses. That's why you came in here. You saw the basilisk."

"Yes." she moped. "It was just dreadful."

"How was it that it killed you, though? I know the students last year had been petrified by seeing the basilisk's reflection, or through a ghost, or the lens of a camera. I would assume your glasses would have saved you."

"WELL THEY DIDN'T, DID THEY!" she huffed and crossed her arms. She started hurriedly floating away from him.

"Please don't go! I mean no disrespect, Myrtle." Sam said quickly.

She stopped, hung her head, and began to cry.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because," she began. "Nobody has ever cared about the details of my death. Except for Harry, maybe."

"Why didn't your glasses save you?" Sam asked again.

"Because I wasn't wearing them." she answered. "I had been crying something awful. They had gone and fogged up on me. I took them off to wipe them off and that's when I heard the boy's voice. I opened the door to tell him to go away and I saw a big, dark, blurry shape coming for me. Luckily I didn't see what hit me. As I lay dead, the boy came and put my glasses back on my face. As he was walking away, I sat up and yelled at him to come back. That is when I saw I was stone cold dead on the ground. So I just hung around until Olive Hornby came and discovered my body."

"And you haunted her."

"You better believe I haunted her!" she said balling up her ghostly fists. "It was her fault after all. It was her fault I was dead." With that she began to wail.

"Then what happened?"

"The Ministry of Magic said I couldn't haunt her any more. I had to return here to the place I died."

"I see." Sam thought of what to ask her next. He was startled to find her eyeing him up again. "So you could say you hung around because you had, unfinished business?"

"I suppose so. I'm not sure exactly. All I know is that I didn't want to go."

"Myrtle I was wondering if you could help me run some experiments."

"Oooooo!" Her demeanor changed and she giggled gleefully. "What kind of," she floated next to him and put her ghostly head near him as if she were nuzzling up to his shoulder. "Experiments?"

Sam gulped a little awkwardly and turned to her. "I'm not from this world, Myrtle. But where I'm from we have ghosts too. They are much, much meaner though."

"There are plenty of mean ghosts here. Have you met Peeves?"

"Unfortunately." Sam said.

"He's mean even to the other ghosts. All except the Bloody Barron. He seems to be frightened of him."

"I wanted to run some tests to see if by some chance some of the things that work in my world to battle against ghosts worked here too."

She looked at him sideways.

"My intention is not to hurt you, Myrtle. I wanted to ask your permission." Sam said earnestly.

"Like what?" she still eyed him suspiciously.

"For example, salt and iron."

"What do you mean?"

Sam tried to choose his words very carefully. "Where I am from, ghosts are usually up to very, very bad things. Like, killing the living."

Myrtle gasped. "Oh, no! How dreadful!"

"There are certain things, like salt, that can help protect the living from harm when these ghosts come after them."

"How does salt help?" she asked.

"Well, it makes them . . . break apart . . . I guess."

"Break apart?" she raised her suspicious eyebrow again.

"I don't know, it's hard to explain. But it only works temporarily. They come right back again. And another thing is they can't cross salt lines."

"And the iron?"

"They can't touch it. It does the same thing it . . . makes them . . . disappear. Again, completely temporary. It could buy you a couple seconds to finish putting down a salt line."

"And that works?" she asked.

"Most of the time. Has anyone ever tried to get rid of you?"

"Is that what this is about? Has Dumbledore hired you to get rid of me?" she moped.

"Oh no! Not at all! I'm not trying to get rid of you. I'm trying to see if ghost deterrents from _my_ world work in _this_ world. I'm not going to lie. It may not be a pleasant experience. Which is why I wanted to ask your permission."

"Interesting." Myrtle said, once again floating around Sam, eyeing him up and down. "And what do I get in exchange for agreeing to help you?"

 _There it is!_ Sam thought. He took a deep breath. He knew he was going to regret this. "What is it that you would like, Myrtle?"

"Hmmmm." she said thinking. But in that way a girl says it already having something in mind but making the guy sweat it simply because she can. "I know exactly what I want, Sam."

"Name it." he instantly regretted saying those words.

"I would like you to come visit me at least once a week." she said and immediately went into throws of giggles.

 _Really?_ Sam thought. _That's it? Not nearly as bad as I thought it would have been._ "Yeah! S-Sure! Sounds great!" he said.

"If you don't show up though. . ." she said darkly which made Sam freeze. "I'll come find you. . . no matter what you're doing." she said suggestively and winked at him.

"No problem." Sam said. "I'll come visit every Friday." he said, thinking to himself the last thing he needed was another Becky in ghost form.


	18. 17: Soul Kitchen

CHAPTER 17

The brothers met up later that night in Dean's room, and Sam and told him about his meeting with Myrtle. He recounted everything from when he snuck up to the girl's bathroom, to how Myrtle became a ghost, to the fact she was undressing him with her eyes.

"What is it with you and the nerdy chicks?" Dean asked.

"I have no idea." he admitted shaking his head. "But she agreed to let us experiment."

"Yeah? How'd you get her to agree to that?" Dean asked.

Sam didn't answer. He awkwardly took a step to his left trying to avoid eye contact and accidentally knocked over a stack of books that Dean never bothered to put away.

"Oops." Sam faked, and began to pick them up still avoiding the question.

"Sammy?" Dean probed.

Sam pretended like he didn't hear.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing. Really." he insisted.

"Oh no, a ghost doesn't just stand still and let someone poke and prod it."

Sam paused and stared at Dean a moment. "You haven't met her yet."

"What is she getting out of all this?" Dean pressed.

Sam sighed. He knew he wasn't going to get out of telling him. "I sorta . . . promised her. . .I'd . . . visit her once a week. That's all, I swear!" he threw his hands up and surrendered.

Dean smiled. Genuinely smiled. "That's it?" He erupted into laughter. "You, uh . . . got yourself a ghostly girlfriend, didja?"

"Jerk!" said Sam.

"Bitch!" Dean responded in kind.

They both worked off the last of the laughs they had built up, at which point they said their good-nights.

The next morning, Sam began to pack a bag with books on ghosts, the poker from his small fireplace in his room, and a few other things he wanted to test. He got dressed and not a minute later Dean was knocking on his door. Sam grabbed the bag and joined him in the hallway.

"You ready, Loverboy?" Dean asked jokingly.

"Ha Ha Ha." Sam said. "Yeah, we need to find some salt though."

Dean thought a moment. "Well, we have three options."

"Okay?" Sam asked.

"One, we ask Severus, and I really don't want to bug him. Two, we steal it from the breakfast table, which might draw attention . . ."

"And three?"

Dean looked glossy eyed and far away as if daydreaming of his happy place. "Yeah, I'm going with three." He said and he took off at a fast clip.

"Wait, what?" Sam asked as he stood there, confused. He realized Dean was neither stopping, nor answering, so he made a mad rush to catch up with him.

He followed Dean through the corridors, down the stairs, and past the doors to the Great Hall, where everyone else was going. They took a few more turns and in a hallway Sam had not yet been down Dean finally stopped by a painting and let a group of Hufflepuffs walk by.

"What are we doing here?" Sam asked.

Dean grinned goofily from ear to ear. He looked up and down the hallway and saw that it was free of students. Satisfied, he suddenly he turned toward the large painting on the wall behind them, which was a huge bowl of fruit, and started scratching at the paint.

Sam nearly went off on him for defacing artwork but became distracted when the pear in the picture began to giggle.

A doorknob appeared, and Sam finally realized where they were going. The Hogwarts Kitchen. Dean turned the knob and the portrait swung open like a giant door. The second the portrait cracked its seal, the hallway, which already smelled of breakfast, became a hundred times more fragrant and their stomachs began to rumble with anticipation.

"You looked like you were having too much fun tickling that pear." Sam said.

Dean simply looked his way, gave him a wink and tongue click, and stepped into the frame sideways and out of view.

"I worry about him sometimes." Sam said to himself before following his brother through the painting's door.

Sam closed the latch behind him and turned to see at least a hundred knee-high creatures busily scurrying all around the enormous room.

Dozens of House Elves perked up from behind their food laden trays and they turned to look at them with their huge eyes. They were carrying them to four long tables that mocked the ones in the Great Hall on the floor directly above them. They had elongated and pointy ears, some of which drooped, some of which jut right out the sides of their head like Yoda. They were all wearing tea towels like togas, which all bore the Hogwarts crest.

Metal pots and pans were hanging all along the walls in rows, and were stacked in heaps in corners. Several stations of low tables, wash basins, ovens and such were occupied by the House Elves in the midst of cleaning and cooking.

"Heeeeeey! What's up guys!" Dean called out.

"Master Dean has returned!" one of them exclaimed joyfully catching the attention of those who had not yet noticed his arrival.

A chorus of House Elves cried out at once, "Master Dean!" followed by a scattering of cheers.

"Wow." Sam said to Dean. "You didn't tell me you had a Fan Club."

Dean laughed and waved at a few of the Elves he recognized from his previous visit. He leaned toward Sam a moment and said, "Heh, heh! Cheer up Sammy. You got your bird ponies, I get the Short Order Cooks."

"You would." Sam said under his breath as Dean moved forward to greet more Elves.

They hurried along, filling the tables full of Cornish pasties, kedgeree, kippers, and porridge. Black pudding, and toast, fried eggs and grilled tomatoes. The aroma was almost too much to bear here in the kitchen. Both of the brothers' stomachs rumbled in anticipation.

A little House Elf placed the tray he was carrying on one of the tables and then practically fell over himself to come greet them. He bowed low to Dean, and then Sam in turn and then looked up them both with his great big eyes.

"Master Dean, to what do we owe the honor of your return visit?"

"Hey, hey! How you doin'? Gorky, isn't it?"

The little creature gasped in delight that Dean had remembered his name and again bowed lowly to him. "Oh! Yes, sir! I am Gorky, at your service!"

"It's good to see you again." Dean said.

By this time, several other Elves had finished their tasks and joined the welcoming party.

"Everybody, this is my brother, Sam."

"Greetings, Master Sam!" they exclaimed in unison with bows so low their pointed noses nearly touched the floor.

Sam respectfully, if not awkwardly bowed back. "Pleased to meet you."

"Let's see here." Dean said. "This is Gorky, that's Woobey, that's Gerda, and Gretchen . . . they're sisters. "

Sam nodded to each of them in turn.

"And that one," Dean pointed to an Elf near one of the tables. "is Dobby." Dean watched Sam's face as his eyes lit up. He leaned in and said, "Don't get all fan-girly now."

Sam laughed. "I won't. I just wanted to see if he looked like the illustrations or the movies."

"And?" Dean asked.

"A little bit of both."

Gorky approached them and took them by their hands and led them further into the kitchen.

"Masters must be hungry! Gorky insists you must not skip breakfast, tsk tsk tsk." he chided.

"It's like an Italian family in here." Dean said to Sam. "All they want to do is give you more food."

Gorky, with brothers in tow, approached the now fully laden tables. He seemed to fall into place alongside a row of other House Elves. Sam and Dean realized there were at least a dozen of them encircling each table. Gorky cleared his tiny throat and raised his hands, and a hush fell upon the kitchen. All the chatter, dish washing, and clanging of pots silenced and all the other Elves also raised their hands.

Gorky gave a small nod and all at once they all shouted, "BREAKFAST IS SERVED!" and they all collectively snapped their fingers. There were multiple crack and pop sounds and the food on the tables before them disappeared!

Sam and Dean both applauded politely at their magical display. A few of them bowed humbly. In the blink of an eye, Gorky had made a hand gesture and they were suddenly surrounded Elves. Some were pushing them towards the tables, some were pulling them enthusiastically. Before they had even gotten within five feet of the table, there were already two place settings and a veritable feast laid out before them. They were all encouraging them to sit down and eat before they wasted away from hunger.

Dean and Sam thanked them profusely and Gorky remained by their side after all the rest had gone back to work.

Dean had already started stuffing his mouth with pasties when Sam turned to Gorky.

"Thank you again, this is all very nice of you."

He seemed taken aback. "Begging Sir's pardon, but it 'tis Gorky's job to do as such."

"Yes, but . . ."

"Sam." Dean interrupted. "I went over all that last time I was here. They are twice as insistent as a Jewish mother. It's no use."

Sam mulled that over. "Well, thank you anyhow."

Gorky bowed once again. "The pleasure is ours, Sirs."

"We actually just came to ask for some salt." said Sam.

"Salt! At once, Sirs!" Gorky said loudly.

Before he knew it, there were at least twenty House Elves closing in on them, all with salt shakers in their hands urging Sam to take them.

"Oh!" Sam said overwhelmed by the urgency of the jumping creatures. He looked over at Dean who was laughing uncontrollably through a mouthful of food.

Gorky seemed to be confused. "Is this not what Sir asked for?"

The Elves stopped jumping up and down and became still. They were all hanging on Sam's answer with baited breath. Some looked to be on the verge of tears for fear they had done something wrong.

"Yes!" Sam decided was the best answer, and they all exhaled and smiled with the knowledge they had done well after all.

"I was just wondering if we could get a _lot_ of salt . . . . to go."

"How much salt does Sir require?" Gorky asked, and the Elves poised themselves to fetch it at a moment's notice.

"Oh, I don't know, uh . . . a couple of pounds ought to do it. I mean, if you can spare it!" he added.

"Of course, Sir. What kind will Sir be needing?" The Elves looked so eager they could hop right out of their shoes had they been wearing any.

"Kind?"

"Yes, Sir! Kosher salt? Pickling salt? Sal de Tavira? Black lava? Celery? Garlic? Fleur de sel? Himalayan?"

He seemed to get more and more excited with every salt he named. Sam held up his hands to stop him, but that only seemed to make him more desperate to offer more variety.

"Sea salt!"

"No, I –"

"SMOKED SALT!"

"No, it's just –"

"JUKYEOM!" he shouted excitedly, then began to pant.

"Regular old table salt is just fine." Sam managed to say. A dozen Elves quickly went to work, sprinting off toward the pantry.

Sam finally turned toward the table and took a few bites of his food. Damn but it was good.

"Does Sir require anything else?" Gorky asked.

Dean piped up. "Actually. I do have a favor to ask."

"Yes, Sir?"

"We have a long day ahead of us, and we are probably going to miss lunch."

"Would Sirs like a packed lunch?" Gorky asked hopefully.

"That would be great, Gorky. You're the best." Dean said giving him thumbs up.

"Would Sirs like the Special?" he asked.

"What's the –" Sam began to ask but Dean held a hand up to stop him quickly.

"That'll be just fine, Gorky. Thank you."

The little Elf ran off to tell the others and seemed overly excited about it. Sam looked at Dean with a "what just happened" look on his face.

Dean just laughed and said, "Watch this! You're gonna love this!"

Sam turned back around and watched as instructed. He saw the Elves bring out ingredients and place them on their counters and go to work setting prep stations.

Gorky cleared his throat, like before. "And a-one, and a-two, and a-three!"

The House Elves went to work and to Sam's surprise broke out into song.

 _"I like mine with lettuce and tomato!"_ sung Gorky.

 _"Heinz 57, and French fried potato!"_ answered the rest.

 _"Big kosher pickle and a cold draft beer! Gandalf, Almighty which way do I steer?"_

Sam's mouth dropped open as he watched the spectacle unfold.

"You taught them Jimmy Buffet?"

Dean was laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. "Yeah." he managed to squeak out.

"Gandalf? _Really,_ Dean?"

Dean just slapped his leg and urged with a pointed finger to keep watching.

The whole kitchen was now singing as they prepared "The Special" for them.

". . . _For a cheeseburger in paradise!_

 _Heaven on earth with an onion slice!_

 _Not too particular, not too precise!_

 _I'm just a cheeseburger in paradise!"_

By the time they had finished the song, two packed lunches containing cheeseburgers, fries, kosher pickles and bottles of butterbeer had been prepared and presented to them in a picnic basket.

Sam and Dean broke out into applause and they all bowed lowly and began to clean their workstations.

They both finished their breakfasts and thanked them all for the wonderful time and delicious food. As they were headed for the door with their picnic basket, Dobby tugged on Sam's pant leg and handed him a five pound bag of salt.

"Thank you, Dobby." Sam said. "It was great to meet you"

"Sirs are too kind." He said simply and ran off to continue his chores.

Sam and Dean exited the kitchen with smiles on their faces.


	19. 18: You Can't Always Get What You Want

Chapter 18

The halls of Hogwarts were still empty of students as the brothers made their way to the second floor bathroom. A cursory look around suggested everyone was still in the Great Hall eating breakfast. They entered the bathroom to find Myrtle sitting atop the sinks quietly moping.

She turned toward the sound of them entering and gasped dramatically as if it had been her birthday and had been presented with a ten tiered cake.

"Oh! It's you!" she said as she giggled. "Hi Sam." she added with a wiggle of her fingers.

"Hi, Myrtle." answered Sam. "How are you today?"

"Whhhhooooooo are you?" she said, ignoring Sam's question, She was staring at Dean the way a child stares at desert plate before they've had their dinner.

"Now who's the Loverboy?" Sam said through his teeth.

"Shyadap." Dean whispered back. He took a few steps forward and introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Dean, Sam's brother."

"Come in boys!" she said with the hint of a little too much anticipation behind it.

Sam hitched the bag a little higher on his shoulder and they both entered the wash area of the bathroom. Their footsteps echoed of the cold, damp walls which were chipping and peeling in places. If it weren't for the fact there was a boy-crazy ghost in front of them, it may have been somewhat creepy.

Myrtle giggled to herself as she watched Sam and Dean approached her. She bit her lip, her eyes darting up and down. Dean felt oddly exposed and felt the urge to cover certain parts of his body even though he was fully clothed. The ghostly teen seemed to pick up on that fact and winked at him, making him subconsciously move the the picnic basket in front of himself.

Sam put down his bag and grabbed the picnic basket out of Dean's hand forcing him to fold his hands there instead. Sam just laughed as he put the basket next to the bag.

"I've been thinking of you all day, Sam." Myrtle said with a titter. "I thought you had forgotten all about me."

"Of course not!" Sam said. "I made you a promise, remember?"

"How could I forget?" she sighed and erupted into fits of giggles. "You told me you had a brother, but you never told me how . . . _handsome_ he was." Again her attention we focused on Dean who gulped hard.

"So . . ." Dean said quickly, trying to change the subject. He bent over and reached into the bag and pulled out the iron fire poker. "How do we want to do this?"

Sam's eyes widened. "Dean!"

"What?" he said defensively.

"Don't be rude. She _does_ have feelings, you know. Don't just start swinging as soon as you walk in the door." Sam urged.

"What's the difference?"

"WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE!" Myrtle howled.

She rushed toward Dean, making his feet flee backward so quickly his back was up against the wall within the blink of an eye. He dropped the poker onto the tile floor making a loud CLANG! Now floating face to face, Myrtle was huffing in a state of anger most fierce.

"The _difference_ is that one is having polite conversation with a person you've just met, and the other is like walking into a room and punching the first person you see in the nose!" To demonstrate her point, she thrust her fist right through Dean's head causing him to squeamishly cry out. He instantly felt foolish because it obviously did nothing to him.

Myrtle burst out crying and took off into the air. She retreated into her stall and with a loud sploosh a fair amount of water sloshed onto the floor. They could still hear her muffled sobs coming from the stall several moments later.

Sam looked at Dean with disbelief. "Look what you did!"

"What did I do?"

"You hurt her feelings, Dean! She isn't like the ghosts back home, okay? She was just a poor little girl who was teased mercilessly by bullies in life. Even as a ghost she gets bullied now and again. She's . . . sensitive, alright?"

"I swear I didn't mean it like that, okay? There was a ghost girl staring at my junk, and I got nervous, alright?"

"Fair enough, but you need to go apologize to her." Sam said pointing toward the stall.

"Seriously?" Dean squeaked.

"We need her, Dean! This may be our only chance to see if this stuff works and it quite literally just went down the drain."

"Come on man!" Dean protested.

"Go!" Sam said resolutely and pointed toward the stall again.

"Gaaaahhhh!" grumbled Dean as he reluctantly walked over to the stall muttering something about not believing he had to apologize to a toilet. He approached the stall door, his feet lightly splashing in the new puddle on the floor. One last time he looked over his shoulder at Sam hopefully.

Sam pulled a serious face at him and mouthed the words "Say you're sorry." and continued to point.

Dean pouted.

" _NOW."_ Sam mouthed.

Dean grunted and turned back toward the stall door. He cleared his throat. "Hey, Myrtle?" he said and knocked three times with his knuckle.

"Goooooooooo aaaawwwwaaaayyy!" came her muffled voice from under the water.

Dean turned around to leave but was met with Sam still pointing with that serious face on. So he turned right back around again just as quick.

"Myrtle, look." he started. "I'm sorry. I . . . I just get nervous sometimes and I do stupid stuff without thinking. You're absolutely right. It was rude of me to just . . . get down to brass tacks with hardly a word spoken between us. It was impolite and . . . and I'm sorry."

Dean waited for a response. When none came he went on. "I'm sorry, Myrtle. Okay? Come on outta there won't you? I promise I really am a nice person."

There finally came a splosh from the inside of the cubicle. A fresh wave of water lapped at Dean's shoes as he heard her soft sniffles behind the door. He sighed.

"You okay?" he asked, this time actually caring.

"No." she answered wearily. "I'm dead."

"I mean are you okay with me?" Again he waited for an answer. "I really am sorry, Myrtle."

Her ghostly face appeared through the door. "Alright," she sniffed, "I believe you." She floated through the door and back toward Sam.

"Thank you, Myrtle." Sam said. "He didn't mean it. And we surely can't do this without your help."

She turned her head and looked at the iron poker lying on the floor where Dean had dropped it. Sam followed her gaze and moved to retrieve it off the ground. As he picked it up, she glided up beside him.

"Will it hurt?" she asked.

Sam looked at her. "If it works, it ought to make you dissipate. You'll reconstitute in a few seconds. To be honest, I don't think it will hurt, but then again nobody really knows."

Myrtle moaned sadly. "Let's get it over with then. Before I change my mind." she said. "But you remember your promise to me Sam Winchester!"

"Hey," he said seriously. "I made a promise and I intend to keep it." he said and he took a few steps back. He shouldered the poker like a baseball bat. "You tell me when you are ready, okay?"

Dean watched this exchange between his brother and the dead girl. He was being so kind to her. Just as if she was flesh and blood.. She had been at one point been a real person, and aside from the fact that she could fly, and apparently hide in the plumbing, she was pretty normal.

Dean watched as she prepared herself. Myrtle took what looked like a couple of deep breaths, which he thought was kind of pointless, but perhaps a force of habit.

Myrtle looked at Sam after a few moments. She saw the look in Sam's eyes was not one of passiveness, but of deep regret. He did not like it anymore than she did. She nodded finally and she tensed up.

"I'm sorry for this, Myrtle." Sam said and he swung the iron poker at her.

She squealed as it passed through her, her eyes closed tightly shut, her shoulders up by her ears.

The iron ran right through her center mass, pure and true with a tremendous whoosh of wind behind his swing.

Sam paused, his facial expression shifted between shock, relief, and disappointment almost instantly. It had had absolutely no effect.

Myrtle opened one eye and half squinted behind her specs to see what had happened. The look on Sam's face had said it all.

"It didn't work, did it?" she asked.

Sam lowered the poker. "No. Not even a ripple."

Dean slowly walked over to the two of them. "There was always a chance it wasn't going to work."

"I know." Sam said dejectedly. "I thought I was onto something though."

Dean hated seeing his brother like this. He had watched Sam spend hours and hours pouring over his books doing research trying to find at least one part of monster lore that matched their own. If this didn't work, it wasn't for a lack of trying.

"It's okay, Sam." Dean said. "Myrtle, thank you for letting us try . . ."

"No, something has got to work!" Sam said and he reached into the bag and grabbed the bag of salt.

"Don't worry about it, Sammy. We'll find something else." Dean said as Sam struggled with cord tying the bag. "Sam?"

Sam ignored him and proceeded to open the bag and pour a line of salt around himself and Dean. "Okay, Myrtle." he said when he was finished. "Try to cross the salt-line."

She nodded and moved forward through the air. Sam held his breath and hoped that she wouldn't be able to cross it.

She glided toward them, crossed the line and passed right between. She turned to Sam once she passed the other side and shrugged. She looked genuinely sorry that it didn't work.

"I don't understand." he said. He grabbed a hand full of salt from the bottom of the bag and tossed it lazily at Myrtle. The white grains flew right through her and came to rest on the floor without so much as a sizzle.

Sam hung his head and Dean touched his shoulder.

"It's okay, Sammy." he comforted him. "We'll find something else to do here."

They had said their goodbyes and packed their things. Sam promised to return next week to visit and they left the second floor bathroom as slyly as they could, given that the students and staff were now around and about. They spent the rest of the afternoon into the evening in their rooms where they had eaten the packed lunches they were given which, even cold, was absolutely delicious.

Sam sat for a long time at the desk thumbing through more books and scribbling notes on pieces of parchment. Dean passed out on the bed for a while and when he awoke it was dinner time.

"You coming?" he asked Sam.

"No. You go on ahead. I'm not very hungry." he said.

"I'll bring you up a plate. Take a nap man, you look awful."

"Yeah. That sounds like a good idea." Sam admitted.

"Alright. I'll see you later." Dean said as he closed the door.

Sam tossed the book he was reading from aside and rubbed his eyes. They stung. He climbed into the bed and before he knew it he was out cold.

There he was, standing in the Quidditch Pitch, a broom in his hand. He felt the sunshine on his skin and took a deep breath of clean Scottish air and smiled. A cool but pleasant breeze kicked up and blew through his hair. He mounted the broom and away he went into the sky as the theme to _The Neverending Story_ began to play. He was flying around the Hogwarts grounds, just checking things out. He flew to the tallest towers, encircled the owlery, and even swept under the bridge at full speed. Twice. He skimmed the Black Lake, making ripples on its surface. The music in his head was playing full blast as he mimicked Sebastian on the back of Falkor and threw his fist into the air screaming, "YEAH!"

He was on his fifth or sixth circle of the castle when dark clouds covered the sun and it began to drizzle. He shivered a bit as the temperature dropped. When the wind picked up enough to make his broom start flying a bit off course, Sam thought it was a good idea to look for a place to land. He headed back toward the Quidditch Pitch and lightning streaked the sky above. The rain was coming down in great heavy droplets that stung his face as he raced through the air.

He rounded a tower and saw it floating there. A Dementor. It reached out for him and he pulled up on the broom handle hard. He slid off the back end of the broom and began to fall. He plummeted end over end toward the ground.

Sam awoke with a start to find the candles had all burned down, and the smoldering embers in the fireplace were casting eerie shadows over everything in the room. Including the figure at the end of his bed.


	20. 19: Out of the Shadows

Chapter 19

The weak embers glowed red in the near dark, and allowed Sam to see the shadowy figure clearly outlined. It was somehow familiar and not in a good way. He hadn't heard anyone come in, years of hunting and light sleeping would have woken him immediately. Yet there it was, staring directly at him.

He felt the cold of the room and shivered under his blankets. He was fully alert as the hairs on the back of his neck rose and told him he was most definitely not dreaming.

His fingers curled around his wand under his pillow and in one quick motion he brought it forth and shouted, " _LUMOS!_ "

The room lit up in the blink of an eye. No shadow was safe from the floodlight of his spell and they dissolved into non-existence. After he blinked his momentary blindness away he was startled to find he was alone. _But there had been someone standing there. Hadn't there?_

He eased up a bit, but his heart was still thumping away in his chest. He heard footsteps outside his door and with a couple of knocks on the outside of it, it opened. In stepped Dean holding an overloaded plate of food. He instantly recoiled against the light of Sam's wand and nearly dropped the plate..

"Holy Hell!" Dean protested. "Would you dial it back man?"

"Yeah, hold on." From his bed, he muttered, " _Nox._ " and sent the room crashing once again into blackness. He pointed his wand and directed another log onto the fire using the levitation charm _._ Once it was in place, he said, _"Incendio!_ " and the fireplace sparked to life with a warm inviting fire.

The room was now cozy and well lit as Dean came in and closed the door behind him setting the food on the desk.

"Magic has made you lazy, you know that?"

Sam cut right to the chase. "Were you just in here a minute ago?" he questioned.

"Uh, no." Dean said confused. "I just got here from dinner." He looked at him sideways. "What was with the lighthouse act?"

"Someone was in my room, Dean." he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I woke up, and they were just standing there staring at me. Right there!" he said pointing at the foot of his bed.

"You sure? Maybe you were still dreaming."

"No way. I woke up and I watched them watch me. It was creepy as hell. They just . . . stood there!"

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "So you went Super Nova with your wand and they were gone?"

"Yeah, and then you walked in."

"Just like that?" Dean asked.

"Just like that."

Dean looked around the room. It wasn't tiny by any means, nor was it large. There weren't many places one could hide. He suddenly dropped down to all fours and checked under the bed. No one there. He checked behind the curtains, under the desk, in the small lavatory, and even above the bed's canopy. All clear.

"Well you must have been seeing things, Sammy." Dean concluded.

"No, Dean I'm telling you someone was there."

"Okay, say someone was there, where'd they go? How could they just disappear?"

Sam looked at him. "Really? We're in a book, Dean. In a world where people can learn how to become animals just by practicing hard enough. The lore we grew up learning doesn't even apply here."

"You think it was a ghost? Something we haven't seen yet?" Dean asked.

"I don't think so."

Dean's eyes lit up. "Do you think it was Cass? Maybe he was trying to get through?"

"No. I know Cass, This didn't look or _feel_ like him. There was something familiar about it though."

"Well who else knows we're here?" asked Dean.

"Nobody I know of. Cass seemed to be pretty convinced that this was important."

"Wait." Dean said as he came to a realization. "I thought Cass was all 'Pop Culture Savvy' now?"

Sam seemed to get where Dean was going with this train of thought. "Yeah. He said Metatron had zapped all the books, movie and TV he'd ever consumed into his head."

"So why didn't he know that this was just a book? You heard him, he called it 'New Gospel' as if he'd never heard of it before. Wait. You don't think it could have been Metatron?"

"No way. He's still locked up in Heaven's jail." Sam confirmed. "And besides, if it was Metatron, he would have said something. The guy loves the sound of his own voice and he gloats twice as much as a Bond Villain."

"Ain't that the truth." agreed Dean.

"I honestly don't think it was either of them. Although, now I _am_ curious about why Cass didn't remember that Harry Potter was just a book and movies. I mean, I don't even know why we're here. These stories are complete. They don't need changing, Harry doesn't need our help, everything works out in the end and the series continues. I mean, the main villain of the franchise doesn't even show up in this book!"

"Yeah, but you messed it up though didn't you?"

Sam thought. "Well, yeah . . . I kinda. . . messed up some of the plot."

"What did you change?"

"I stopped Draco from getting hurt during Hagrid's class."

"Okay, because of that, what doesn't happen now?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed. "Draco doesn't get to ham it up and make Harry and Ron's lives suck. Buckbeak doesn't get sentenced to death because there won't be a trial, Hagrid gets to keep his job without fear of getting fired. I mean, I fail to see how this is a bad thing."

"Wait, wait, wait." said Dean. "I – I think I remember this one. This is the one where they go back in time using that necklace thing, right?"

"The Time Turner, yes."

"And they went back in time to save your bird-pony and the other guy."

"Sirius Black."

"Right, him." Dean said. "But if Buckbeak doesn't get killed, then they have no reason to go to the pumpkin patch."

Sam listened. "Yeah, so?"

"But isn't that when it all happens? They find the rat and they go to the Shrieking Shack and they find out the rat is really the guy, and then Sirius was like 'I'm not really a bad guy.' and Remus shows up and is all, 'I believe you!' then Severus is all, 'Ha Ha! I got you now'!"

Sam held up a hand for Dean to stop prattling on with his horrible impressions. "You're right. Now I'll have to do something about it. I'm surprised you remembered that much of the movie."

Dean looked proud of himself.

"Well, on the day that Buckbeak was supposed to be executed I'll just have to make sure to get those kids down there for some reason."

"If we don't find a way out of here first.

Sam felt a twinge of regret. "I feel responsible."

"Of course you do. But like you said, it's a book. In our world, I really don't think the author is gonna sue you if we leave things the way they are."

"We don't even know if we _can_ get back until the story is over." Sam said.

Dean thought about it. "As much as I hate to admit it, you're probably right."

"But we have a bigger problem now."

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"Well," Sam said, "Now that we know the monster lore is a bust, what are we going to do? If we are stuck here till the story ends, then we _have_ to figure out what we are going to teach."

Dean sat on the edge of Sam's bed and sighed. He scratched the back of his head in thought. "Well we've been teachers before. . ."

"Uh, no." Sam interjected. " _You_ were a teacher. _I_ was a janitor, remember?"

Dean smiled and chuckled. "Oh yeah. Ha ha."

"Don't laugh dude. You didn't have to clean up the aftermath of Mystery Meat Monday."

"But Taco Tuesday was sweet." Dean smiled.

"Really?" Sam asked with a grimace. "They were made with leftover Mystery Meat."

"Whatever dude. The point is I only know how to teach one thing."

Sam lifted an eyebrow in question.

"Dodgeball." he answered.

Sam's eyes lit up. "That's it!"

Dean looked at him in disbelief. "You think I should teach a bunch of magic kids. . . . Dodgeball?"

"Well not just Dodgeball, Muggle Sports!" said Sam.

Dean mulled the thought over in his brain. "Yeah, I could do that." he said finally.

"They don't really have any physical activity in the curriculum. I mean, they have Quidditch, which should be starting up in a week or two, but that's just the House teams."

"Alright," Dean said. "So I can teach them dodgeball, basketball, soccer. . . "

"Football." said Sam.

"Yeah, football too."

"No, I mean they call soccer 'football' over here."

"Freakin' weirdos" Dean said passively.

"Actually, American Football came af-"

"A-shhh shhh sssshhhh!" Dean shushed his brother. "It's sacred, man. Let me have this."

With that, he stood and retrieved the plate of food off the desk and brought it over to Sam. "Eat something. I'm going to bed. See you in the morning."

"Yeah, okay. Goodnight."

Dean left the room, and Sam set the plate of food on the bedside table. He nibbled on a piece of battered fish and sat back against the headboard. He looked around the room, his mind once again on the shadowy visitor.

He picked up his wand and cast the Anti-Intruder charm Flitwick had taught him in one of his private lessons. If someone was using magic to spy on him, he wasn't going to be caught off guard again. Especially if he was sleeping.

Tomorrow was September 19th, Hermione Granger's birthday. Sam knew that if he and Dean were to befriend her, Ron, and Harry, this would be the best opportunity to do so. Up until now they'd managed to be in Harry's good graces by having his back, which was something at least. However, other than that they'd had very little contact with the three.

 _But what could I possibly give her?_ Sam thought. He had no money, and the first Hogsmead trip wasn't until the end of next month. His eyes darted around the room looking for some small trinket or nick-knack that nobody would miss if it were to disappear from his room. His eyes came to rest on the bookshelf and he smiled to himself. He hunkered down in his bed and slept soundly throughout the rest of the night.

The next morning the students groggily made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. It was a lazy, drizzly Sunday. Sam waited outside in the hallway for Hermione with a wrapped parcel in his hand behind his back. Several students passed by on their way in with greetings of, "Good morning, Professor." Sam smiled and nodded his "Good mornings" in kind.

Hermione appeared at the top of the stairs with Harry and Ron in tow. They seemed to be having a heated discussion in hushed tones. Hermione looked especially tired and in no mood for the subject at hand. They reached the bottom of the stairs and joined the rest of the flow of students entering the Great Hall.

"Good morning, Professor." the three chimed in staggered unison.

"Good morning, you three." Sam said. As they passed Sam spoke quickly. "Miss Granger?"

She stopped in her tracks and turned toward him. "Yes, Professor?"

"May I speak to you a moment?" he said as cheerfully as he could. He didn't want to make it sound ominous as if she was in trouble.

"Of course." she said, exchanging looks with her two best friends. "You go on ahead, I'll catch you up."

The boys nodded and disappeared into the Great Hall with the rest of the hungry students. Sam pulled her aside and out of the way.

"Is there something wrong, Professor?" Hermione asked with bated breath.

"What? Oh, no. I just wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday." he said quickly. He smiled at her and that made her obvious tension melt away and she smiled with him

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, Professor!"

"And as I know you'll appreciate it," he said revealing the parcel he had been hiding behind his back, "I would like you to have this."

Her face lit up at seeing his gift. She gasped and took the parcel. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome. Have a great day, Miss Granger."

"I will!" she said, and with a bounce in her step that wasn't apparent before, she entered the Great Hall and joined her friends.

Sam followed soon after and made his way up to the head table and joined Dean who was already elbows deep in his breakfast.

"There you are!" Dean said. "Almost thought you weren't coming down."

"Yeah, I just had to run an errand real quick."

Dean looked confused. Sam pointed over in the direction of the Gryffindor table and the two of them watched as Hermione opened the parcel Sam had given her. Her eyes lit up when she unwrapped a thick, leather bound book.

"What did you give her?" Dean asked.

"It's a book about Animagi." Sam said simply. "It should give them a bit of an edge for what's to come."

He watched as Hermione turned toward him and mouthed the words, "Thank you."

Sam nodded to her with a satisfied smile.


	21. 20: Bad Moon Rising

Chapter 20

The next few weeks went on quite routinely. Sam and Dean went about their days learning during the classes they were assigned to, and had their private tutoring at night.. Sam visited Myrtle on Fridays, and Dean visited the kitchens now and again to teach the house elves new songs about "food".

One night Remus had suggested to Sam that he speak to Madam Hooch about learning more about Quidditch. He inquired during dinner and she said, "If you're serious about the sport, then attend the meeting next Thursday." To which Sam agreed.

Before the meeting was set to start, Sam thought he'd slip by the kitchens himself to grab a snack. As he cracked the portrait door, his ears were met with Dean's off key singing and dozens of house elves' melodious backup.

" _Sssssssheeeeeee's myyyyy cheeeeeerry pie!"_

Sam's eyes widened as he slammed the portrait shut again. He blinked a few times, turned, and went to the meeting hungry.

Before they knew it, October had begun! The two of them ate, slept, and drank magic. The latter less than figuratively, as Severus insisted that Dean drink his poorly made Hiccuping Potion. The result of which _gave_ him horrible hiccups that Severus refused to cure. He made Dean re-brew the potion twice before he finally got it right. Severus chided him saying that the brewing process was so simple even his first years could make it right the first time. It didn't seem to dampen their budding kinship though, as that very night they stayed up late drinking tea and playing Wizard Chess.

Sam's interest piqued on the 16th of October when Lavender Brown's letter came from her parents with the sad news of her rabbit, Binky's passing. She hadn't received her "premonition" from Trelawney so she had not been outwardly dreading the date, nor had Hermione had to scoff about how ridiculous it was. But sadly it had happened regardless.

Hagrid's classes became more and more Halloween themed. He brought in giant bats, and talked about Acromantulas, much to Ron Weasley's horror. His red hair positively vibrated every time Hagrid mentioned the words 'giant spiders'.

Sam took note of how happy Hagrid was as he beamed proudly with every new creature he brought to the class. Changing Buckbeak's fate had allowed Hagrid to really shine as a Professor, and for that, Sam felt no shame in having done it.

While the students tromped through the pumpkin patch, Sam asked Hagrid how he had been able to grow them so large.

"It's a closely guarded se'cret y'know." he began. And before long he had begun reciting the recipe for his super-grow fertilizer. He was more than halfway through the list when he stopped himself saying, "I shouldn' 'ave tol' ya that."

Things seemed to be settling into a pretty evenly paced life at Hogwarts. Even Minerva seemed to enjoy having Sam and Dean to talk to after the staff meetings. She told them that their idea of bringing physical education to the curriculum was worth an Ogden's Old Firewhiskey each on her tab during their first trip to Hogsmeade.

The castle's décor became increasingly festive as the weeks passed by. Even the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall had bats encircling the students as they ate.

The day before Halloween, Dean was just finishing a private lesson with Severus when the Potions Master opened a hidden compartment in the wall of the classroom. An alcove was hidden within the wall and inside was a cauldron bubbling away. The potion inside gave off an acrid smelling faintly blue colored smoke. Severus scooped up the potion in a small bottle, capped it, and handed it to Dean.

"What's this?" Dean asked.

"This," began Severus with a noticeable sneer, "Is Wolfsbane Potion."

"What's it for?"

"This potion alleviates the symptoms of Lycanthropy. While it does not _cure_ it, it allows the drinker to keep his wits about him throughout the change."

"Oh." Dean said plainly. A few moments ticked by and he finally got what Severus was referring to. "Ooooooooh!"

"If you would be so kind as to deliver this dose of potion to Remus, as I would rather chew on an Oleander."

Dean knew of Severus' dislike of Remus and didn't want to agitate the situation. He simply nodded and said, "Sure thing."

"Make sure you get some sleep tonight." Severus said. "Tomorrow is the school's trip to Hogsmeade. The students can be . . ."

Dean waited patiently through his dramatic pause.

". . . Obstreperous." he drawled.

Dean had no idea what that word meant, so he simply laughed and replied, "Yeah, I'll bet! See ya later at dinner?"

"Of course."

"Alright." Dean said quickly and headed out the door.

Dean climbed the stairs from the dungeon saying the word "obstreperous" over and over to himself.

He went to Remus' chambers and knocked on the door. He heard nothing inside. Checking his watch, Dean knew Remus was usually in his chambers at this time on Saturdays. He knocked again hoping he was only napping.

Eventually he heard a stirring of something inside. The door opened and Dean was met by Remus' sallow face.

"Hey Remus! I brought you . . . JEE-ZUS!" he was shocked to see him looking as pale and worn down as he did. "You okay, man?"

"Please come in." Remus said as he grabbed Dean's arm and quickly pulled him into barely lit room. A few candles had been lit as the curtains had been drawn to block out the afternoon sun. The door promptly closed behind him and Remus turned and tried his best to muster up a smile.

"Please forgive me, I don't want anyone to see me like this." he said.

"You look like Hell, man. Is it like this every time?"

"Unfortunately."

Dean retrieved the potion from his pocket and handed it to Remus who took the bottle feebly.

"You need anything? Can I do something?"

"No, Dean. I will manage. As soon as the sun begins to set, I shall be leaving the castle. There is a safe place I go where I can do no harm." He looked at the bottle in his hand with disdain. "As long as I take this vile concoction."

With that, he unlatched the top and a puff of blueish smoke wafted out of it. Remus lifted the bottle to his lips and he swallowed the potion in one go. His grimacing face told Dean all he needed to know about the taste.

"Foul stuff, this." he said, wiping his mouth.

"So I take it you won't be going with us to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"Not this time, Dean. Tonight the moon is full, and I am at my weakest. Tomorrow I will be better, but not well enough to make the journey. No, I shall stay here tomorrow. Recover my strength."

"Take care of yourself Remus." Dean said heading toward the door. "Come back to us in one piece, alright?"

"I'll do what I can." he grinned with much effort.

Dean nodded and quietly slipped out the door into the hallway. Outside he ran into Sam who was on his way to his own room.

"Hey!" Sam greeted him. "What's up? How is he?" he asked, seeing that he had just come from Remus' room.

"Well, he ain't winning any beauty contests." Dean said shortly.

Sam looked worried. "I know he is going to be fine. But actually knowing the guy and seeing what he is going through . . . man!" He shook his head.

"Yeah." Dean agreed. "You know if he was any other guy in our world we'd be gearing up to take his wolf-ass out right now."

"But he's not a harm to people. As long as -"

"As long as he takes his potion, he's good. Yeah, I know." Dean said quickly.

"Seeing this side of him. How hard he tries to fight what he is . . . it kind of . . ." Sam looked at his brother's arm.

"Gives you hope that I can fight it too?" asked Dean a little more harshly than he had intended.

Sam pressed his jaw together and nodded. He knew that Dean tried. He didn't want to get on his case. They'd been getting along better than they had in a long time and starting a fight was the last thing he wanted to do.

Dean sighed heavily. "I hear ya." he said and looked down the hallway to avoid eye contact.

As Sam began to speak again, Dean noticed the end of the hall was abnormally darker than usual considering the sun was illuminating every window on this side of the castle. Within the shadows he could make out the dark figure of someone watching them.

"What the?!" Dean exclaimed.

Sam followed his gaze and instantly recognized it. "That's the same shadow that was in my room!"

"HEY!" Dean roared and took off down the hall at breakneck speed, Sam at his heels.

They hadn't closed the gap by half when the figure stepped back further into the shadows and disappeared. Instantly light crept back into the space as if someone was playing with a dimmer switch.

"Oh, COME ON!" Dean yelled in frustration. "Aaaaahhhhh!" He threw his fist through the air at nothing. "Who the hell is it?" he asked.

"I don't know. It isn't Sirius. He doesn't have that kind of power."

"Well it was _definitely_ not Cass."

"Nobody from the books I can think of can do that."

"I swear to God if it's some punk-ass Angel messing with us . . ." Dean's voice trailed off.

"Come on, Dean." Sam said taking his arm. "Not out here. Let's get out of sight. My room is warded."

"Warded? Warded from _what_?"

"Everything." Sam replied.

They made their way hurriedly down the passageway to his room. Sam waved his wand in front of the door without speaking a word. The door shimmered and with another flick of his wrist the lock clicked open.

Dean looked at Sam sideways for a moment and then they both entered into the dimly lit room. Sam quickly turned around and locked the door and threw the ward back up.

"So, what? Now you can do magic without talking?" Dean asked gruffly.

"It's called Non-Verbal Magic." Sam responded.

"I know what it's called! Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"Minerva. She said I was advancing so quickly that I should try it."

"Geeze, man. You and that Hermione chick should start a brainiac bowling league."

Sam ignored him and crossed the floor, throwing open the curtains. The room lit up revealing the runes, sigils, devil's traps, and Enochian symbols written in chalk on every surface. There were even symbols Dean didn't recognize.

"Wow!" Dean said, impressed. "You weren't kidding. Looks like the dungeon at the Bunker."

"I've had to redo it twice. The House Elves kept scrubbing the walls and I had to leave them a note telling them to leave it alone."

"I thought it was warded?" Dean asked.

"It is. House Elves have their own kind of magic."

"Is that their magic?" he asked pointing to one of the unknown shapes on the wall.

"Yes. That one symbol there allows passage by invitation only. After that night I saw that shadow in my room, I didn't want to take any chances." said Sam.

"I guess not. Okay, so . . . this thing shows up in your room, then nothing for almost a month and now it's stalking the halls?"

"Yeah, I don't know, Dean. It doesn't match any of the lore here, trust me. It's gotta be something from our world that followed us."

Dean sat on the edge of Sam's bed clearly frustrated. As he chewed on his lip a thought crossed his mind. "Maybe we'll find out tomorrow."

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"It's a stupid thought, but Sybil said we'd get the answers to some but not all of our questions on Halloween."

"You know she is widely regarded as a psychic hack, right?"

"Hey! I remember the part of the movie where she made the real prediction prophecy thing. That wasn't bull. That came true. Maybe she does have a bit of the Shining in her?"

"Well I guess it's possible. It does run in her family." Sam thought a moment. "I guess we'll see tomorrow."

Dean stood and grabbed a piece of parchment off the desk and a quill. He hastily scribbled some of the new symbols on the page and shoved it into his robes. "It might not be a bad idea at the point for me to put up some stuff up too."

"Good idea." Sam agreed.

"Okay, I'm gonna go get ready for dinner. Watch your back while you're walking around from now, Sammy."

"You too." Sam waved his wand and the door shimmered to signify his ward had come down.

Dean opened the door and looked up and down the hallway. "Okay, see you in half an hour."

"I'll meet you in the hall."

"Okay, sounds good." Dean said and closed the door behind him. Sam was about to re-ward the door when it opened again and Dean popped his head back in. "By the way . . . what does 'obstreperous' mean?"


	22. 21: Highway to Hell

Chapter 21

Morning came quickly. The whole castle was abuzz with Halloween excitement. The students were tempestuously conversing in their own groups of friends discussing their plans on how best to tackle Hogsmeade.

After a _very_ hearty breakfast Sam and Dean were approached by Dumbledore and pulled aside.

"Gentlemen," the old Wizard began. "You have both done very well in your studies. I have been told by all the Professors that you have both excelled, and for what it's worth, I know you have struggled."

Dean was unconvinced. He was quite sure that he had been mediocre at best. Sam had obviously become far more advanced than him. He was proud of him to be sure, but he couldn't help but feel just a tad bit jealous. Although he knew he should have expected it as Sam had always been the brains and he was the brawn. Dean just grinned and nodded as he listened to Dumbledore speak.

"The staff have been impressed by both of you. And to thank you for the additional help in their classrooms, they have all come together to reward you both with these."

Dumbledore reached into his robes and retrieved two small velvet bags. He handed one to each of them and they could tell instantly that they were filled to the brim with coins.

Sam's eyes bulged at the weight of the bag. "Wow! Thank you so much." he said sincerely. "This is . . . this is all very, _very_ generous."

"Yes, thank you." Dean chimed in.

"The few of us that know you are not, erm, _locals_ ," Dumbledore jested, "thought it would be best that you had the proper currency to properly enjoy yourselves in Hogsmeade today." And with that he chuckled. "You are sure to run into residents, and if anyone is to ask you are to tell them that you are here on a transfer program from Ilvermorny."

"Ilvermorny? What's that?" Dean repeated. He looked at Sam for clarification. To his surprise, Sam looked just as confused as he did.

"I've never heard of Ilvermorny. That wasn't in the. . . I mean, I haven't read about it." Sam said.

Dumbledore looked amused. "Ah!" he said. "So there _are_ indeed things that you do not know about our world afterall." He almost seemed pleased as the words came from his mouth. "Ilvermorny is the American School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Sam instantly had the look of a child on Christmas morning as an audible gasp escaped him. "There are more schools? I mean, I know about Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, but there are more than that?

Again, Dumbledore seemed to be highly entertained by the conversation. "How is it that you know about Durmstrang and Beauxbatons and not Ilvermorny?"

"Because Hogwarts hosts the Tri-Wizard Tourn . . . aaaaah crap that's the fourth book." Sam closed his eyes tightly and winced as if he had accidentally just given away the finale to someone's favorite TV show.

"As a matter of fact, yes! We are in negotiations for the next school year to take part in the first Tri-Wizard Tournament since 1792. Fear not, young man. You have not given away any major plot points.'' Dumbledore chuckled.

"Thank goodness for that!" Sam said, highly relieved.

"There are 11 such schools, my lad, Ilvermorny is home to the Americans. Their Houses are quite different than ours. I have an inkling which houses you may belong to if you are interested. In fact, it may help with your story if someone were to inquire."

Sam was almost bursting with anticipation. "Yes, of course!"

"A good cover story is never a bad thing." Dean sniffed.

"Dean, you are most likely in Wampus, Sam, you are in all likelihood in Horned Serpent."

"WAMPUS?" Dean blurted out. "Like bad Santa?"

"That's Crampus. The Wampus is in Native American culture if I remember correctly. Kinda like a half man, half cougar thing." said Sam.

"Cougars, huh?" Dean lifted an eyebrow silkily.

"The animal kind!" Sam shot back.

"Heh, heh, heh." Dean laughed exaggeratedly.

"Ah!" said Dumbledore. "I see. Well then! You'll want to make sure to stop by the Three Broomsticks to see Madam Rosemerta then, won't you? Enjoy your day, gentlemen." he said and he walked away grinning.

Sam's jaw dropped. "Did he just. . . ?"

"Who is Madame Rosemerta?" Dean hyperbolized.

"She runs the. . . " Sam cut himself off. "I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer." He said as he walked off to join the flood of people exiting the Great Hall,

In the Entrance hall, near the front doors stood Mr. Filch with a long piece of parchment checking off student's names after confirming their permission slips were signed. He was looking perturbed as usual, but he was taking great joy in barking orders at the students, though most were ignoring him.

Sam and Dean joined the gathering groups outside where a few professors were gathering thier students in groups according to Houses.

"Ah!" exclaimed Minerva after seeing them. "There you are Professors! A hand if you please?"

"Of course!" said Sam, and both of them instantly got to work on crowd control. Pretty much every student third-year and above, with the exception of a few, were outside chatting away as they gathered into groups.

When everyone was accounted for, each House followed the next, lead by their Head Professors, and began to walk the path down to the gate and beyond to the road. It was easily a good 15 to 20 minute walk to Hogsmeade, during which several students were threatened with being sent back to the castle if their behavior didn't improve. At which point Severus walked by Dean and in a biting tone muttered, "Obstreperous" within his earshot.

Even in the cooling Autumn climate, the walk to Hogsmeade made everyone work up a sweat. Half of the students were quite out of breath, as were most of the staff. Minerva took up a position at the head of the crowd and announced a few ground rules for the students. She even threatend detention to all rule breakers, up to and including sanitation of the Owlery.

When all was said and done, Minerva said, "Now, enjoy your day, be safe, and all students are to report back to this spot no later than 4pm so we can make it back to the school in time for the Halloween Feast!"

There was a brief but fierce applause and students scattered. A large number of them were headed in the direction of Honeyduke's Sweetshop.

Minerva walked briskly over to Sam and Dean with a giant smile on her face. "Well!" she began. "How will you two be spending your day?"

Dean looked at Sam and decided to let him take the lead in this conversation.

Sam hesitated. "I, uh . . . we don't really know, to be honest." he shrugged with an awkward laugh.

"Oh! Well of course! You've never been here before. Shall I make a few suggestions?"

"Please!" they both said in unison.

"Well, there is Dervish and Bangs for Magical Instruments. Dogweed and Deathcap for Herbology, Severus usually spends most of his time there. There is a music shop. Gladrags has clothes, you may want to stop in there. Honeydukes for your sweet-tooth. If you are looking for tea or coffee, there is Madam Puddifoot's. A quill shop. There are two pubs, The Hog's Head and The Three Broomsticks. A bookshop, Sam I think you'll like it. There is a joke shop, that'd be Zonko's, best you stay out of there lest the students get it in their heads to prank you later."

"Yeah, let's not." said Dean.

"There is one shop in particular that I think both of you should visit."

"Which one is that?" asked Sam.

"Spintwitches Sporting Needs." she said with a smile. "I have a feeling that they will have a few things you'll be needing in the near future."

Dean grinned. "Alright."

"And of course I haven't forgotten my promise to you both. If the chill becomes too much, come find me at The Three Broomsticks."

"We will." assured Sam.

With that, Minerva turned on her heels and headed in the direction of the Three Broomsticks.

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged.

"What was the name of the sports shop?" Dean asked.

"Spintwitches."

"Let's check it out and then head to the bar."

"Sure."

Spintwitches Sporting Needs was packed with students, mostly those who were on the Quidditch House Teams. They were oogling over brooms, and fawning over Quidditch robes.

Oliver Wood stood near a display case of brooms so close he fogged up the glass with every breath. He only briefly looked up when he realized he was being watched to see Sam and Dean on the other side.

"Coach Winchester!" Oliver exclaimed in his thick scottish brogue.

"Coach?" Dean quickly asked under his breath, his voice betraying his shock.

Sam looked at his brother and with a nervous smile. "Assistant . . . Coach."

Dean looked at him with a confused but jealous look. " _Dude,_ Come on! I thought _I_ was going to teach sports?"

 _"Muggle_ Sports, actually." Sam said to clarify. "And I'm not teaching sports, _per se_. I just assisting Madam Hooch with Quidditch, that's all! I swear!" he said with his hands up.

Oliver rounded the case and put his hand out with the intent on shaking Sam's.

"Looking forward to Quodpot next semester." he said, taking hold of Sam's hand. "I love Quidditch more than anything, but Quodpot will be a nice change from the norm, you know."

"Yeah. You bet." Sam said still with his nervous smile. Oliver walked off and Dean stepped into the place where the young Keeper had stood.

"Sam? What the hell is a Quodpot?" he pressed.

"It's a. . . .game." Sam answered slowly.

"It's a sport isn't it?"

"From what I've read it's like the American version of Quidditch. But this version has an exploding ball and a cauldron."

Dean stewed.

"Look, I wouldn't have taken the position if I had something, _anything_ else that I could teach."

"Let's just grab our balls and go to the bar." Dean said trying to skip through the moment. He winced at the statement as soon as it came out of his mouth. Sam smiled and laughed.

"Shut up, Sammy." he said and walked off at a fast clip toward the counter to talk to the Wizard who ran the shop.

After a full hour in the shop, they had succsessfully ordered a plethera of Muggle sports equipment to be delivered directly to the castle as they did not carry them in the store. Dean insisted on paying for them out of his share, insisting that _he_ was the Coach. Sam ordered about half a dozen Quods himself, which he paid for.

They found themselves outside of The Three Broomsticks after a quick jaunt down the road. The place was full of students and a few of the Professors.

After a cursory glance around, Minerva waved at them from her place at the bar in between a man and a group of chatty 5th years.. They waded through the crowded tables and joined her.

"Well! It's about time you two showed up!" she said with a touch of haziness in her eyes.

She reached over the bar and caught the attention of the bartender. A good looking woman in her early 40s, with dark blond hair streaked with lighter tones sauntered up with a smile.

"Yes, Minerva? What can I get you?" she said. Her eyes moved over the three of them, staying a little too long on Dean. "Hello." she said, her smile growing.

Dean completely forgot his frustration and smiled back. "Well, hello to you too." he replied.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Rosmerta, dear, three firewhiskeys please."

"Blishen's or Ogden's?"

"Heavens me! Ogden's of course!" Minerva said clutching her hand to her chest. If Sam didn't know her better he'd almost think she was offended if not for the slightest hint of a smirk.

A few moments later Rosmerta returned with three shotglasses in her hands filled to the brims with an ambery red liquid. Minerva slid a few Sickles across the bartop and quickly handed Sam and Dean their shots.

"To Physical Education in the ciriculum!" she clinked her shotglass and drank before the brothers could even say 'cheers'. Her glass was back on the bar a few seconds later. She smiled, pat them both on the back and left the two of them alone.

Sam and Dean watched as she made for the door, swaying gently. They looked back at each other and laughed. They clinked glasses for real and threw them back. They swallowed and instantly their mouths were on fire. Worse yet, so were their throats. They coughed and sputtered not expecting the reaction.

"Oh my god!" said Dean.

Sam was trying to form a coherent sentence but kept on choking. "Wow!" - _cough cough cough.-_ "Didn't expect that!" - _cough cough-_ "It really -" - _cough-_

"Burns like Hell?" asked a familiar voice. It came from the man that had been sitting at the bar next to them.

Dean turned wide eyed and whirled around.

"Crowley . . ."


	23. 22: Mr Crowley

(Addendum- Please note that changes have been made to the Prologue in order to make a better fit within the Canon _Supernatural_ Timeline. It also aids in this story's progression.)

Chapter 22

"Hello, boys." Crowley said, clearly pleased with himself.

Dean glared at the King of Hell as Sam looked around the room to see if anyone's attention was caught by the exchange. Nobody seemed to have noticed.

"It was _you_ , wasn't it?" asked Sam. "In my room, and in the hallway."

Crowley raised a shot glass to his lips. "Guilty as charged, Moose." Nonchalantly he threw back the booze and laid the glass on the bar.

"What the hell are you doing here?" growled Dean.

Crowley stood and raised an eyebrow. "Ah! Having fun are we? Shall I just leave you two alone to play _Hot for Teacher_ in this world of pointless repetition? Alright then." He raised his hand, his fingers poised in a snapping position.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" said Dean. "Hold up."

Crowley's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Didn't think so." He lowered his hand to his side.

"Did you know we were here the whole time we were gone? How long have we been gone?" asked Sam.

"Oh let's see." Crowley sarcastically started counting on his fingers. "You've been here for 2 months, sooooooo. . . ." More sarcastic counting. "Carry the one. . . ."

"Today would be nice!" Dean said shortly.

"You're no fun! Honestly you've only been gone a couple of hours. You said you were in need of a vacation, I thought this would make a nice change from your normal every day-to-day hunt and slaughter. Besides, I needed a break from my own affairs."

"What do you mean _you_ thought it would make a nice change?" Dean said. "Cass sent us here . . . and how did you know I said we needed a vacation?"

"Oh boys, boys. Have you learned nothing from our years of friendship?" Crowley reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver coin.

Sam and Dean looked confused for a few seconds before the memory of the coin crept back into their minds. He had used the coin before to eavesdrop on their conversations when dealing with the Four Horsemen.

"Seriously?" Dean asked Crowley. "You planted another damn coin on me? Aren't we past the whole, 'Spy vs. Spy' thing?"

"Except this time it worked out in your favor!" Crowley laughed as he put it back into his pocket.

Sam shook his head trying to wrap his mind around Crowley's confession. "Metatron put every book he'd ever read into Cass's head, and you somehow convinced him it was real?""

"Oh please. We came up with the idea together. Dean did me a solid and I wanted to return the favor. I had a nice chat with your be-feathered friend and he suggested this . . . _novel_ idea. He has his own errands to run, as do I. And now I can do them freely without that damned witch wearing me down to my last bloody nerve."

Dean looked at Crowley. "Finally got tired of Mummy Dearest?"

"Rowena?" asked Sam.

Crowley nodded. "What was it you said? 'Family don't end in blood, it doesn't start there either'?"

Sam's eyes moved between the two of them not believing his ears. _Did he seriously just quote Bobby?_ he thought.

"I've sent the wretched witch packing. Dean convinced me of my Mother's transgressions, and after pulling her little stunt, I am finally rid of her and her treachery." Crowley sighed heavily.

"But as for this place, your impotent semi-Angel had enough mojo juice to send you off to Potterland, but I'm the one who created it."

"But . . . why?" Sam asked.

"Let me use smaller words so you can understand, Moose. You. Vacation. Me. Delivered."

"Yeah, so you said. But why _here_? I wanted beaches and babes. . . .not. . . not _this_! This is Sammy's shtick, not mine." Dean interjected.

"Well, it was either this or _My Little Pony_. I could send you there if you'd like." Crowley teased.

"No, no, no!" Dean said quickly.

"But why this book?" asked Sam. "Out of the entire series, this is the book you chose? The main villain isn't even in this one. I would have figured you would have plopped us down right in the middle of the Battle of Hogwarts hoping for a stray curse to finish us off."

"To be honest, I thought about it. This place is like a malfunctioning Holodeck, everything is real." Crowley admitted passively. "But, I figured I owed you one."

Sam and Dean both looked sideways at the demon.

"What?" he said defensively. "I can't be nice?"

"No!" they answered in unison.

"Alright fine!" Crowley exclaimed. "The third book sucked and I figured you could make it more interesting. And you certainly have done that, haven't you, Moose?"

Sam faltered. "Yeah, I kinda changed some things." he said scratching the back of his head. "Wait, wait! You've actually _read_ the books?"

Crowley's eyebrows raised at the question. A moment later his brow crinkled and he hesitantly squeaked, "Well, not exactly."

The brothers continued to stare at him, waiting for him to crack.

The demon sighed and rolled his eyes. "When I was holed up in shady motels on human blood benders, I liked a little background noise, okay?"

An amused smile crept across Sam's face as he realized what Crowley was saying. "So, let me get this straight. You listened to the Harry Potter _audio books_ . . . while getting _high_?"

"Only when I had company. I watched the movies on repeat when I was alone."

Dean smirked. "Crowley, you are going soft."

"Was." he said quickly. "I got better."

Sam stepped forward. "So, everything that Cass said about protecting Harry was just to throw us off guard enough to get us here?"

"Yeah. Pretty much." Crowley conceded. "The story is the same story, well, it was until you went and spiced things up."

"Right. Right." Dean continued. "Okay so, ha ha ha, very funny. The joke is over. You got us. Now send us back home."

Crowley pursed his lips. "Ooooo. Sorry. No-can-do, Dean-o!"

The brothers exchanged worrisome looks.

"What do you mean? You can't? Or you won't?" Dean pressed.

"Yes." the demon answered simply.

Dean's fist balled up tightly by his side. "Wanna run that by me again?" he asked.

"Look ladies, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have another appointment. It's been lovely." he said and turned toward the door. Sam and Dean immediately began to follow him out to the street.

As soon as they were outdoors, Dean grabbed Crowley by the shoulder and turned him hard. "Hey! Don't you walk away from us, we're not done here."

"Oh, I'm afraid we are. You see, this is a gift." Crowley said. "AND I'M NOT A BLOODY HORSE!" he bellowed.

The raised voices drew a bit of attention on the street. Sam looked their way and waved a hand to signal that everything was fine to the passersby and they went about their business.

"Once this story begins, it has to finish." said Crowley through gritted teeth. "That is how it's designed. A year here is only a day in our world. So enjoy your _damned_ vacation! And next time don't expect me to be so _exquisitely_ _GENEROUS_!"

And with that Crowley promptly Disapparated with a loud _pop_!

Dean did his best to stifle his frustration and growled under his breath. Students and locals again started to take notice.

Sam grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from the front of the building and down the alley around the side.

"Not in front of the kids, Dean." he said in a low voice.

Once they were out of sight Dean punched the side of the stone building hard. A sickening crunch of bones breaking echoed through the alleyway and Dean pulled his hand to his chest cradling it.

Sam took out his wand immediately. "Let me see, Dean. Let me see."

Dean pushed him off but Sam insisted. He grabbed his wrist and took a look at the damage. The knuckles were split, a continuous dark bruise across the back of his hand had already surfaced, and the whole thing was beginning to swell.

Sam had seen his brother put holes in walls all his life. He couldn't recall him ever doing this much damage to himself in one punch. Then again, he never made a habit out of punching stone walls either.

"I really hope this works." Sam said as he pointed his wand at his brother's mangled hand. " _Manibus Emendo!"_

A bright blue light surrounded Dean's injury and a revitalizing warmth emanated from the glow. A few seconds went by and it slowly faded. Sam held his breath as he took one of Dean's fingers and moved it slowly in a circle. It moved solidly, the bones inside intact and mended.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "So he _did_ miscast it." he said to himself.

Dean was in awe. "What?" he asked shakily.

"Gilderoy Lockhart." Sam said. "He used a similar spell on Harry in his second year. But instead of healing his bones it removed them."

Dean looked horrified. "The rubber arm thing?"

"Yeah. You remember that?"

"It's kinda hard to forget something like that. Charlie made sure I was awake during that scene . . . Oh jeeze, Charlie!" Dean remembered.

"I know." Sam nodded. "She's still out there. Those guys are still after her. I hope she made it to Bobby's cabin alright."

"Let's just hope that she had a good enough head start. If what Crowley said is true and we're only gone for a day maybe she'll be okay. As soon as we get back we need to hightail it to the cabin."

"Agreed. But first we have to survive this place for a whole school year." Sam said.

"Damn it." Dean muttered under his breath.

"And if we are stuck here, then we have to start getting closer to the main characters. We have to make them trust us."

"Okay, fine. What are you thinking?"

"Well," Sam started. "I'm thinking we need to work on Ron and Hermione first. "

"Alright, how do we do that?"

"We could start by sharing their interests. Show that we are into what they are into. From there it would be a lot easier to befriend Harry as well."

Dean nodded. "We've already have a few brownie points with him already so that's good."

"That's true. And if his two best friends say we're good, then he would be more inclined to let us in."

"Okay. So how do we get closer to the other two?"

"I have an idea about that."

Ten minutes later as the brothers entered Honeydukes, the clamor of students' laughter and chatter rose like an approaching freight train. All along the walls there were deep shelves and cubicles full of confectionery treats. Tremendous jars of wildly colored sweets rested on practically every available surface. Great heaping barrels of the stuff stood grouped together in several locations around the store, and there was hardly standing room in between them all.

Dean's mouth dropped open as he looked around. "Dude. I've died and gone to Heaven."

Sam wasn't listening, he was scanning the faces of the students looking for one in particular. After a few commotion filled minutes, he spotted the fiery red tuft of hair he was looking for along the back wall of the shop.

Sam tapped Dean's chest with the back of his hand. "Hey. There he is." he said.

"Okay. What's the kid's last name again?" asked Dean.

"Weasley."

Dean grimaced. "Really? Poor kid." And with that Dean began wading through the sea of students heading in Ron's direction.

"Hello Professor!" chimed several students on his way through the crowd.

Dean did his best to smile and nod to as many as he could without losing sight of Ron. Thankfully something had the kid's attention and he hadn't moved at all. Dean also found it hard to concentrate as each student that he passed or bumped into had some sort of sacchariferous delicacy in their hands, or threatening to teeter over the edge of their overloaded armfuls.

He closed in on the boy and squeezed in between two students. Somewhere underneath the tangle of school robes and moving limbs, Dean's foot hooked on somebody's leg and he stumbled forward colliding into Ron's turned back.

''Oi! Watch it mate!" Ron said angrily turning about quickly. As soon as he realized he had just told off a teacher his face went immediately pale. "Oh! I - I am s-s-s-so sorry Professor!" Ron stammered. He continued looking up at Dean, but the look of horror did not leave his face.

Dean couldn't help but laugh on the inside. He just placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Don't worry 'bout it kid. Weasle is it?"

"Uh, Weasley, Sir." he answered.

"Right!" Dean looked over at the shelf that had previously held Ron's attention. "What did you find there?"

"Sir?"

Dean pointed to the shelf. Ron instantly perked up when he finally realized he wasn't in trouble. "Oh! Pepper Imps, Sir."

"Pepper Imps? Never had those. What are they like?"

Ron got excited. "You've never had them? They're wicked fun. They're little black peppermints, and when you eat them smoke comes out of your nose and ears!"

Dean looked genuinely surprised. "What? Really? That's so cool!"

Ron reached over and pulled a package off the shelf and handed it to Dean who read it eagerly.

"Breathe fire for your friends." Dean muttered he read aloud. "That's awesome! What else they got?" he said as he shoved the package into the crook of his arm.

Ron beamed from ear to ear. "Well this is the Special Effects Candy over here. Over there you've got nougats, and toffees, and treacle fudge!"

Dean's eyes almost rolled into the back of his head. "They got any pie?"

"They've got Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties."

"Nah. I want something that I can really sink my teeth into, ya'know?"

"Well, then you won't be wanting the Exploding Bonbons then." Ron laughed.

"They make those?"

"They do! And Fizzing Whizzbees that lift you off the ground. And Acid Pops, and Jelly Slugs, and Ice Mice, and Licorice Wands, and -"

"Whoa, whoa! Slow down!" Dean said smiling. "Teach me your candy ways." He looked across the room where Sam stood by the door and gave him a wink.

Sam nodded and headed out to the street. He headed toward a shop at the end of the row called Scrolls and Tomes where he was sure he would find Hermione Granger.


End file.
